


In His Court

by smalltrolven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angsty Schmoop, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Post Season 7, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:57:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltrolven/pseuds/smalltrolven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Season 8 AU, where Sam  regroups after Dean and Cas disappear from the SucroCorp lab, enlists the aid of his remaining allies; and desperate to rescue Dean from Purgatory makes a deal with Crowley which turns out to have a much higher price than he’s anticipated.  But when it comes to saving Dean, there is no cost too high for Sam.  How far would you go to save the one you love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In His Court

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spnaubigbang , thanks to the mods for a nicely run bigbang experience, I had a lot of fun immersing myself in another AU.  
> Much appreciation for my wonderful beta stella_lost who gave me so many great suggestions and awesome encouragement, thanks bb I couldn't do it without you. And the fabulous artist delugedpapercup ;that worked on this story, thanks for all the great artwork, it makes the story look so wonderful on the page, Go see it all in one place here at the Art Masterpost.

The first thing he notices when he awakens is the familiar smell of the Impala, god he’s missed this so much, can smell Dean in here even if he’s gone. Sam sits up abruptly hitting his head on the roof.  It all comes back to him in an awful flood, **_Dean’s gone_** , he doesn’t know where. Not yet.  Before he can get too worked up about Dean’s absence, Sam hears a familiar fluttery whoosh of wings and hears a deep gravelly voice from the front seat, “Dean’s in Purgatory, thought you should know.” 

Cas looks like he’s about to take off immediately, but Sam touches his arm a second before he’s pulls his disappearing act.  “Cas, what? Purgatory? Is Dean okay? Can you help me get him back? How are you even here?”

Cas looks at Sam with that familiar not-quite understanding expression, the hard one filled with pity for this poor mortal before him, and then his face changes to what Sam thinks of as the new-Cas face, the one that is soft and open, but not quite all there, “Yes, Purgatory, the weapon he used on Dick Roman brought us both there.  He is alive.  No Sam, I can’t be involved in this, the violence is…not for me anymore.  I can make you a sandwich. And I believe that once again my father has brought me back whether I like it or not, my punishment continues.”

Sam wants to scream at Cas, he sure as hell does not want another sandwich right now, all he wants is Dean, and even new-Cas should know that, but he controls himself and says in the friendliest voice he can manage, “That’s okay Cas, I don’t need a sandwich right now.  Tell me about Purgatory, is there a way to get him out?”  Sam wishes all of a sudden that Meg was there, she’d be able to talk to Cas, maybe talk him into helping even.  But she’s not there, because he’s guessing Crowley still has her along with Kevin the Prophet. And yeah, he shouldn’t be wanting to hang around with another demon chick when Dean’s off in another dimension, but sometimes they can be helpful.  Sam’s going to do whatever is required to get Dean back, and everyone involved knows that by now.

“Yes there is, but you cannot accomplish it yourself.  How about some honey Sam, I’ll just go and bring you back some honey.” Cas almost sounds like he’s pleading with Sam, not wanting to get involved, but still wanting to help somehow.

“Sure Cas that would be great, but first can you please tell me who might be able to help since you can’t? It’s for Dean’s sake, I know you still care about what happens to him.”  Sam outright pleads.

“I can think of no one you’d want to call on, it requires the three bloods and a righteous soul’s bone again but I do not know the words that must be said, they are different to bring someone back. Here is my contribution.” Cas hands him a vial of what Sam assumes is Cas’ blood.

“Thanks Cas, for uh, your blood again.  So I have to make the same weapon we used on Dick Roman, and figure out what words to say and that will bring Dean back?”

“Yes, it will bring back whoever last used the weapon to open up Purgatory.  As long as no one else has opened Purgatory since he killed Dick Roman, Dean will be the one to return. I will go now and get the honey for you Sam.”  Cas disappears.  Sam falls back onto the seat in frustration, narrowly missing hitting his head on the door handle.  At least he knows where Dean is now, and most of how to get him back, which is a lot more than he knew when he woke up.  He wishes he’d mentioned Meg to Cas before he left.

Sam tries summoning Meg, and he waits there in Rufus’ cabin for days, stuck in the middle of next-door to nowhere Whitefish, Montana, bored out of his mind, worried so much about Dean he can barely eat, but she doesn’t come, until several days later, Crowley does instead, surprising Sam in the middle of finishing the last of the whisky Dean had left behind.

“Sorry Gigantor, Meg is, shall we say, otherwise occupied, she won’t be joining us.”

Sam puts down his mostly empty whisky glass and stands up quickly, “Crowley, I need her, to help me talk to Cas.”

Crowley picks up the glass and sniffs, grimacing and setting the glass down, “That muddle headed wing-fluffer, what’s the point? He’s not going to be any help, I’m the one you want to talk to.”

“No Crowley, I really don’t, not unless you’re going to give me a little of your blood again.”

“Really Sam, going back to Purgatory so soon are we?” Crowley taunts.

“I’ve gotta get him out.”  Sam says plainly, trying to get across there’s nothing else more important to him.  Sam doesn’t want to beg, but he knows he’s probably got to, not having much to offer Crowley in return.

“Well, that’s going to cost you precious, and I know you’ve got something else to do before you’ll be needing it.  So I’ll do this instead, you need to find our fine fanged friend again, right? Well, he’s not where you’d look first, he’s moved to his summer house in Seattle. Here’s the address.”  Crowley proffers a yellow post-it note with some scrawled fountain pen writing.

Sam accepts the piece of paper, trying to contain his surprise at Crowley’s unanticipated helpfulness, “Thanks, but uh, why are you helping me?”

“Let’s just say, it will all be clearer in the near future shall we? I’ve got to get back to Meg and Kevin now, ta!” Crowley is gone without a sound.

Sam’s left standing next to the table, holding the supposed address of the Alpha Vamp, wondering why in hell Crowley would help him like this, and whether Cas would want to do anything about Crowley having Meg and Kevin.  He sighs; knowing there isn’t anyone to ask for answers and begins packing up to get on the road to Seattle.  As Sam drives, he starts thinking about how he’s wrong, that there are other people, maybe not the usual ones they would have asked for help in the past, they’re all dead and gone now.  But there’s Jody Mills, and maybe Charlie if he can find her again, even Garth might be of some help.  He calls and leaves messages for Jody and Garth, and resolves to try and track down Charlie when he gets into a motel that night, driving on as fast as he can. 

Listening to Dean’s tapes just makes him too sad, so he sticks with the radio, listening to news stations that are all abuzz with the downfall of Sucrocorp and an apparent food poisoning scandal they’re involved in.  Sam just laughs and hopes that Charlie’s involved with that somehow.  He’s got at least a nine hour drive if he goes straight through to Seattle, but ends up stopping in Snoqualmie before the pass.  This place has so many memories, he’s stopped here many times with Dean on their treks back and forth across the country, but he suddenly remembers why this place, this motel he’s pulling into as if by habit is so familiar.

This is it, this little looks like nothing motel is where they gave in, all those years ago, a few months after their dad had died, in this very place, The Rode-a-way Inn.  He can just remember hearing Dean teasing, “Rode hard and put away wet, right Sammy?”  Sam checks in and asks for the room, their room, #14, on the first floor, on the far end away from the office, even though it’s a double.  As he goes to sleep that night he tries to recall how that whole night even happened, it was all so long ago.

They’d been coming back from what was supposed to have been an easy salt and burn of two spirits trapped in one of the mountain lodges, something about a fight over winnings in the casino, but they’d both gotten injured, Sam the worst, getting choked (again) with the over-sized napkins from the dining room.  He’d been in the bathroom, examining the purpling chain of bruises on his neck in the dim light when Dean had come in to pee.  But their eyes had met in the mirror and something had shifted, changed when Dean had spotted the bruises.  He’d come forward brushing up against Sam’s back as he’d leaned in to softly touch the ones on the side of Sam’s neck.  Sam had shivered uncontrollably at Dean’s touch.  Their eyes had locked irretrievably in the mirror and they both watched as Dean came in the last few inches to kiss the bruises even more softly.  And just like that, Sam had been lost. And found.

After all those years of denial, and self-hating doubt, he’d swayed backwards into Dean who caught him steadying around his waist, gripping him sure and firm even though they both felt as if they were getting pulled out to the deep ocean with an invisible power of a rip-tide.  There hadn’t been much more they could do except fall into each other, no hope of covering this back up and trying to pretend it wasn’t there.  And it had been such a relief how little it had changed things.  Both of them had been convinced that it would be the end of them, but instead it was something they both soon realized wasn’t anything they could have ever stopped forever. 

Sam sleeps well that night for the first time since Dean’s been gone, dreaming deeply of making that final promise with their bodies even if it hadn’t ever been spoken.

~*~*~*~*~

His phone ringing is what wakes him up the next morning; it’s Garth who last he’d heard was back on the East Coast in D.C., apparently unaware of the three hour time difference with where Sam is blearily holding the phone.

“Sam, hey, it’s good to hear from you man.  How’re things?”

“Uh, hey Garth, thanks for calling me back.  I’m, well, honestly, I’m not too good.  Gotta ask if there’s any way you could come out to Washington to meet me.”

“You’re in luck, I just finished my case the other day and I’m in Chicago now, so I’ll be there by the end of today if I can catch a good flight.  You in Seattle or somewhere else?”

“Yeah, Seattle.  Don’t you want to hear why?”

“Naw, I know it’ll be a long story, you guys can tell me when I get there.”

Sam takes a deep breath, knowing he has to actually say the words for the first time, out loud to someone else, “It’s just me now, Dean’s gone.” The breath whooshes out of him, he hates even having to utter those words, it makes it all so much more real and he doesn’t want to think about it that way, not yet.  Not when there is still something else he can try.

“Well okay then, you can fill me in tonight, I’ll call later with my flight info, so you can get me at the airport.”

“Thanks Garth.  I mean it really.  Thanks.”

“You bet Sam, see you later dude.”

Sam smiles to himself as he hangs up, looking forward to seeing Garth, just having a friendly face who knows him, who knows a little bit about what Dean means to him will be such a relief.  He doesn’t know how much help Garth will actually be, but he doesn’t realistically have any other options.  After a quick breakfast of power bars and bad motel coffee Sam gets online.  At least the Wi-Fi is pretty good here and with his fingers crossed he gets in deep into some of the message boards that Charlie had mentioned she frequented.  He creates an account and posts a request that he hopes gets her attention and is cryptic enough to throw off any remaining internet monitoring Leviathans:

_Hermione, I know we said goodbye and promised we’d never contact you again.  But you gotta help me save Ron again.  Bring your Princess Leia tattoo with you to Seattle and call me. There’ll be as much ScarJo as you can handle afterwards.  ASAP Thanks, Harry_

With that done, all he can do is drive the rest of the way to Seattle, it doesn’t take too long until he’s cruising the neighborhood that has the home that Crowley’s pointed him to.  Trying to drive inconspicuously in this area with its exclusive homes tucked way back up curving driveways with security cameras everywhere is hard, he’s lost his touch, and usually Dean’s the one who’s driving.  Finally he sees the house, surrounded by trees with a big open lawn up to it from the road.  He doesn’t stop, but slows down a little to get a bead on how many doors and windows he can spot.  Only two cameras that he can see at the bottom of the driveway, so coming in from the side will make more sense. 

Sam’s got a few hours to kill until it’s time to head out to pick up Garth at SeaTac so he drives through downtown Seattle slowly, parking near the touristy Pike Place market.  He remembers that there’s a good place that has clam chowder and he needs to eat something soon.  He gets the chowder to go and sits down at a park that overlooks the edge of the water, listening to the kids playing and the drum circle just starting up, trying not to enjoy the sunshine too much.  It doesn’t seem right to enjoy himself even a little bit when his brother is gone, far away in a place that he can only imagine is maybe not as bad as Hell, but who really knows, the Leviathans were there after all. 

But he can’t think about that, it’s not helpful to dwell on imagining what’s happening to Dean, he’s got Cas’ word (for whatever that’s worth these days who knows) that Dean’s okay.  Instinctively, without really meaning to, he prays for Cas to come, just wanting some reassurance that Dean’s still really alive.  And he drops his remaining chowder to the pavement when Cas appears on the bench across the picnic table from him with the familiar whoosh of wings departing.  “Sam, you are well I see.”

“Yeah, uh hi Cas, didn’t think you’d really come.” Because he didn’t usually, not before he was God, and not really after either, not unless Dean was the one calling, Sam tries to be grateful that Cas responded to him for once.

“I am here, because Dean is in trouble and you need to hurry.” Cas says in his usual solemn tone.

“He is? I’m trying Cas, but I don’t know how long it will take.  Is there anything more you can do to help me?” Sam asks, hoping against hope that he’ll get an actual answer for once.

“I know you do not require any more honey, but I will do what I can, as long as there is no violence.” Cas answers in what sounds like a binding promise.

Promises of a crazy angel are worth something Sam thinks, and then decides to ask the question he’s been wondering for a while now, “Cas, do you know that Crowley has Meg?  And Kevin the Prophet?”

Cas tilts his head to the side a little, indicating that he’s taking on new information, “I did not, that explains why she did not come when I called her.  I was distracted with counting the types of beetles in an Amazon rainforest preserve, it takes longer than you’d imagine to keep them all separate long enough to count them accurately, they’re so busy, and have so many jobs.”

“I’m sure that’s hard to do.  Uh, Cas, he has Kevin, remember Kevin the Prophet, I thought he was important to the angels.” Sam continues on the line of questioning as gently as he can manage, knowing that it doesn’t take much to set Cas off these days.

Speaking as if he’s repeating something he’s memorized, Cas answers, “Yes, Kevin the Prophet needs to be rescued, he should not be under Crowley’s control.  And Meg is…”

“Meg is what Cas?” Sam knows this is not strictly necessary that he knows what Meg is to Cas, but he’s curious and it may impact the whole mission.

Cas doesn’t say anything for a while, eyes darting all around the park, finally settling on some white poppies moving in the breeze, “Meg is…. necessary to me now.  I will retrieve them both.”

“Cas! Wait!” Sam yells in frustration, jumping up from the picnic table and knocking the soup container off the edge, the remains splattering near his shoes.

But Cas is gone, as quickly as he’d arrived.  Sam’s left there alone again, with his spilled soup and more questions than he had before.  He feels the buzzing in his pocket that’s another call coming in.

“Hey Sam, how are you?”

It’s Jody, and the relief in hearing her calm, warm voice is almost overwhelming, Sam has to steady himself, “Oh hi Sherriff Mills, thanks so much for calling me back.”

“Sam I thought we’d settled this, you call me Jody, you hear?” Jody insists with a stern humor that makes Sam smile and relax his shoulders.

“Yeah, okay, sorry Jody.  I called to…well I called to ask you for some help.”

“Well it must be something major, I know you Winchesters are as bad as Bobby Singer was at asking for help. What is it Sam?”

“Dean’s gone Jody, he’s gone.” Sam answers, his voice breaking and going quiet on the second ‘gone’. It’s harder the second time, because Jody’s been there with him before when Dean has disappeared and needed retrieving.  She’s seen Sam fall apart, held him together with quiet support, glasses of whisky, and a motherly humor that had surprised him with how necessary it became to surviving Dean’s absence. 

“Where Sam? Where’s Dean?” Jody asks, dread in her voice, because she knows Dean isn’t just off on a bender somewhere when Sam is sounding worse than the time when Dean had been lost in the past.

“Purgatory.  We figured out how to kill the head Leviathan, but it took Dean with him.  Jody I have to get him back, I need to get my brother back.”  Sam stops himself, just barely from crying into the phone, wishing Jody was there, embarrassed as hell to be breaking down over the phone to this woman who he knows cares, but really has no reason to.

Jody swallows past the lump in her throat, hearing the raw emotion in Sam’s voice, “Sam, it’s gonna be okay, we’ll figure this out, we’ll get him back. What can I do?”

“I’m in Seattle right now.” Sam sits down on the bench, slumping down, head in his hands, feeling so alone, even though he’s talking to her right now.

“I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Really, just like that?” Sam straightens up immediately, instantly cheered just at the thought of Jody travelling to be there and help him.

“Yeah Sam, remember what we did when I last saw you?”

Sam holds the phone closely, as if he’s hugging the memory of that brilliant rescue they’d pulled off, his brother returning in a flash of red light, whole and safe, “Brought Dean back to the right time?”

“Uh huh, I bet since I helped with that, I can do something that will help with this, so I’m there a.s.a.p.  It’s why you called me, right?  Do you need anything that you didn’t keep from Bobby’s stuff?”

“No, we already had all the Purgatory related things since we were working on getting the Leviathans back in there. Jody I can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank me when we get Dean back, ‘kay? See you soon Sam, I’ll call when I know when I’m coming in.”

“’kay, see you Jody.”  Sam hangs up and looks up at the cloudless blue sky, suddenly overwhelmed by the concept that he’s still got friends.  It’s been hard the last few years, with all that’s happened, and how many friends he’s had die, but how about that?  There still really are some folks he can call on when he needs them most.  Sam thinks about explaining all of this to Dean when he’s back, how improbable it will seem to him that Garth and Jody were willing to drop everything at a moment’s notice to fly out and help him. 

Dean’s always been so focused on the job, and keeping moving, and remaining unencumbered by obligations, and he sure as hell has never figured out how much he affects people.  How when people get to know his brother, they’ll follow him anywhere, and do just about anything to help him.  Dean’s one of those natural leaders, but it’s not something he’s ever thought about himself as being a good skill to have. 

Sam smiles thinking about his brother’s self-esteem issue, and maybe seeing that their friends worked together to save him might give him a little boost in that respect.  It certainly can’t hurt, unless one of them ends up dead, but if Sam’s got anything to say about it, that’s not happening.  It might be selfish of him to even risk one of their friends getting hurt.  No, it is selfish, he knows that, but it’s Dean, and both Jody and Garth know him well enough that they’d understand. 

He thinks to check in on the message board he’d posted on earlier that morning, to see if Charlie’s responded and sees that there are several replies, most of which are confused people trying to figure out his purposefully cryptic message, but one that says:

_Harry, I’m with Dumbledore right now, we’ll contact you by owl as soon as we find one not compromised by Voldemort._

Sam smiles widely as he figures out what the crazy reply implies.  But wait does Dumbledore mean Frank? They never did figure out if he was really killed, they’d just assumed that he was a goner with all that blood covering his trailer.  If Charlie is with Frank, could they be doing something about the left-behind leaderless Leviathans?  Sam feels momentarily guilty for not following up on that particular issue, but it’s not like he would have been able to do much.  If he’s honest, Dean’s all that really matters to him anyways.  Almost as soon as he finishes that thought, his phone is ringing once again.

“That you Harry?”

“Yeah, hi Hermione, thanks for calling.”

“Sam, I’m here with Frank, and we’re almost done with stopping the last of Dick’s plan.”

“Good, that’s good Charlie, thank you.”

“So you took out Dick I saw.  Pretty awesome.”

“How did you--?”

“On the security video feed.  Did, uh Dean really disappear too?”

“Yeah, he’s gone Charlie.  Stuck in Purgatory.  I’m trying to get him out, that’s what I was actually calling you about.  I need help.”

“Anything Sam, you got it.”

“Can you and Frank get me a map or something that shows where the Leviathan creamer stuff had actually been released?  Like where there would be some humans affected?”

“Yeah, we’ve got something like that we’ve been working on.  I’ll email it to you.”

“How long are the effects going to be hanging around do you think? I need more information about how long it stays in our bloodstream to trade for something to help Dean.”

“Ok that’s just weird Sam.  From what we can tell there is a half life of about two weeks after initial production, then it’s no longer viable.  The stuff is killer effective, once someone has ingested it, they are completely out of it for at least a few months.  And it’s still in the bloodstream for about six months after they’re back to normal.  This is all according to the records from Sucrocorp that we’ve been reading.  There isn’t much more I can tell you than that. Is that enough info to help Dean?”

“I think so yeah, it’s great Charlie, thank you.  And tell Frank thank you too.”

“You bet Sam, let us know when you’ve got Dean back and if we can do anything else for you.”

“I will, thanks.”

“Bye Sam, good luck.”

~*~*~*~*~

Sam picks Garth and Jody up at Sea-Tac, he greets them both with hugs bordering on desperate and tries to pull himself together.  Jody and Garth chat over the seat back of the Impala, trying to figure out how they each know Sam and Dean.  While listening to them, Sam swings by a drive-thru to pick up some burgers on the way back to his motel. They settle in to eat and talk about what help Sam needs from them. Garth and Sam hunched over their burgers at the table, Jody sitting on the bed. 

“This is probably going to be dangerous, you both know that right?” Sam asks them seriously.

Jody and Garth both nod at Sam.

“So, here’s the deal, when we took out the head Leviathan, the spell we used pulled Dean and our friend Cas into Purgatory along with Dick Roman.  There’s not too much else I know beyond that. Cas was able to get out and he told me that Dean is alive, but needs me to get him out as soon as possible.”

“How did this Cas get out?” Jody asks.

“Uh, well he’s an angel.  And it’s a long story, but he keeps dying and being brought back to life.  He thinks God is trying to get him to learn a lesson.”

“An angel?” Garth asks, surprised.

“Yeah, I know, it sounds crazy, but it’s true.  I didn’t believe it until I met him myself.”

“This Cas trustworthy?” asks Jody a little suspiciously.

“Well, that’s a long story too, but on the subject of Dean, yeah, I’d trust him.” Sam answers.

“So how do we get Dean out?” Jody asks.

“We have to make the same device we used to send Dick Roman back to Purgatory.  It’s basically a bone and three different types of blood.  I’ve got the bone and one of the bloods.  It’s getting one of the other bloods I need your help with.”

“I’m type A positive, will that help?” Garth asks.

“Thanks, but no, we need the blood of an Alpha, they’re the first of their kind of monster.  I’ve found out where the Alpha vampire is and that’s where we’re going first.”

“A vampire? Like undead, with the teeth and everything?” asks Jody.

“Yeah, exactly like that.  I’m bringing him some information he wants, so it shouldn’t be too dangerous, I just needed some backup, that’s where you two come in.”

“I haven’t come up against a vamp before Sam, can they be killed?” asks Garth.

“Yeah, guess I’d better fill you both in just in case, vampires can be killed by decapitation, a stake to the heart or being burned.  They’re stronger and faster than humans, and can go in the sun, they just don’t like it, weakens ‘em.”

“I feel like I’m in an episode of Buffy all of a sudden. Count me in on the Scooby gang.” Jody quips.

Sam smiles in relief that she’s on board. 

“You got enough machetes for us Sam?” Garth asks, showing that he knows how to gank a vamp as well as any other hunter.

“Yeah, got it all in the car.  We’ll go when it’s full dark, I already scoped it out.  Two security cameras in the front near the driveway, so if we approach from the side we should be okay.”

“Sam I’m really glad that you called us for help.” Jody offers with a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah buddy, I just hope it helps.” Garth agrees.

“Thanks guys, I didn’t know if you’d come, but I’m damn glad I don’t have to do this all by myself.”

Later that night they drive back out to the wide tree-lined streets of the neighborhood where the alpha vamp lives.  Sam points out the house as they cruise by once, parking a block over.  Sam hands them each a machete with a grateful smile.  “Let’s go.” 

They get pretty close to the house before one of the alpha vamp’s guards confronts them. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to see him.” Sam answers, trying to sound more confident than he really is.

“He doesn’t see visitors here, and not ones such as you.  Go away. Now.” The vamp bares his teeth menacingly.

“No, I’m afraid we can’t do that.” Sam answers, pulling out his machete.

The vamp leans in to attack but Garth knocks him over suddenly and Sam is able to whack his head off with one big blow.  He wipes the blood off his blade on the vamp’s shirt.  “We’re almost there, stick close.”  Sam looks over and sees Jody’s wide eyes staring at the now clean blade gleaming in the moonlight.  He winks at her, hoping he’s mimicking Dean’s bravado that always seems to help ‘normals’ get used to the whole monster-fighting thing.  And it works; she winks back and smiles bravely.

As they approach what looks like the kitchen door, another vamp appears back lit by the lights in the house.  “You aren’t supposed to be here.” He tells Sam.

“Yeah we know, but we have to be.” Sam answers.

“Go. Away.” The vamp bares his teeth just like the other one had.

“No, I’m afraid we can’t do that.” Sam answers, pulling out his machete again.

This time it’s Jody that knocks the vamp over as he rushes towards Sam. Turning quickly to the side Sam chops through the neck, the head of the vamp rolling down the steps into the garden, the body falling limply in the doorway.  “We’re in, c’mon” Sam says, quickly stepping over the body and into the house.

They walk through the house quietly, wary of more henchmen appearing at any second, but they get through with no more contact until they find the Alpha Vamp seated at an ornate carved wooden desk at the end of a large over-decorated sitting room.  Dim lights are scattered around the room, casting shadows that are disconcerting.  Sam enters the room first with Jody and Garth right behind him.

“Winchester, you are actually here in my presence once again?” The alpha asks, sounding rather amused.

“Yes, uh, hi.  I know you said you didn’t want to see me again, but I have something you need.” Sam stammers out.

“And I’d wager I have something you need, **_again._** ” The alpha says, a silky threat in his low voice.

“Yes, I need your blood again, to rescue my brother from Purgatory.”

“He is more than just your brother isn’t he Samuel? Answer me honestly.”  The alpha purrs.

Sam feels compelled to answer even though Garth and Jody will hear this truth, “Yes, he is everything to me. My love, my life. He doesn’t belong there, he needs to be with me. We were told in Heaven that we are soul-mates.”

“I appreciate your honesty. Tell me what it is you have that you think I want.” The alpha nods regally at Sam.

“I have a complete database of all the locations where Sucrocorp distributed the tainted creamer and information on how long it lasts in humans.”

The alpha sits back in his chair and steeples his hands in front of him, “I thought Sucrocorp was shut down in their plans when you dispatched Roman.  You mean this is still an issue for my children?”

“Yes, it will definitely harm them, and I know you were concerned about that before, the last time you uh, gave us your blood.”

“Well, this is news, and I’m glad you’ve had the initiative to bring it to me Samuel.”

“Does that mean you’ll give me what I need?”

“Yes, as long as you swear we’ll not meet again, and kill no more of my people in this house.” The alpha fixes him with a stare that scares the wits out of Sam.

Sam barely manages to say anything, quickly agreeing without a further thought, “That’s absolutely fine with me.”

The alpha brings his wineglass to the front of him on the desk, rolls up his sleeve, and runs his long fingernail over his wrist slicing it open, the deep rich red blood pours out into the glass until it is half full.   He offers it to Sam with a large menacing smile that shows the first several rows of his teeth, “You’ll see yourselves out?”

Sam places the usb drive on the desk, “Yeah, uh, thanks.”  He turns to go, grabbing Garth’s arm to wake him out of a light trance, Jody’s already ahead of them, out the kitchen door.  Then walk silently and quickly back to the car, put the machetes back in the trunk and Sam pours the blood from the glass into a vial he had waiting in the trunk.  He wraps it up in one of Dean’s shirts and tucks it safely in Dean’s duffel with the vial of Cas’ blood.  He reluctantly gets back in the car, thrilled that they succeeded and no one was injured, but dreading their questions.

Before Sam can even start the car, he’s startled by Garth demanding, “Sam, how could you?”

“How could I what Garth?” Sam asks, incredulous that Garth’s challenging him at this point.

“Sam, I’m glad we got the blood like you needed, but you just promised that Alpha to not ever try and kill him. How can you even do that?” Garth asks, anger barely held back.

“I had to.  It’s for Dean.” Sam answers quietly, helplessly.  That’s the only answer he has.

“We know Sam, we heard what you said in there.” Jody says, an unasked question in her voice.

“It’s true, what I said, and I know it probably doesn’t make you think much of me and Dean, but you’d never understand, and it’s just the way it is for us, always has been.” Sam states defiantly, defending himself against their unstated objections.

“Listen Sam, I don’t care about all that.  Being a hunter is hard enough, I know that and I haven’t been doing it all that long.  And having someone like Dean to do it with, well that would mean everything to me.  I understand as much as I need to man, don’t worry about it okay?”  Garth says, trying to show Sam that he’s accepting of this strange news.

“Sam, I already figured this out after working with you to get Dean back to our time.  And Bobby had told me a little anyways.  Like you said, it is what it is.  I honestly don’t have a problem with it, it’s your business, but anyone can see how much you mean to each other.  I’d have done this for my husband or my child if I’d had the chance.”  Jody adds, hoping Sam hears her tolerant words.

Sam sits there in the driver’s seat; head bowed looking at the spatters of vampire blood on his hands.  He sighs heavily, “Thanks you guys, I know it’s a lot to take in at once, and I just, well I’m just glad you’re open-minded enough to still be in the car with me.  Not many people would.”

They get back to the motel, Garth bunks with Sam and Jody gets her own room.  Before splitting up Sam tells them both, “We’ve got more left to do, but I’m too tired to explain it all.  Tomorrow okay?”

Jody pats his arm and smiles, “Me too, I’m beat.  See you in the morning.  We meeting at the diner over there?”

“Sounds good, thanks Jody. Good night.” Sam says, patting her on the shoulder, and turning to go next door to his and Garth’s room.

~*~*~*~*~

Jody putters around her room for a while, and starts thinking about Sam and Dean while she brushes her teeth.  _Those boys found each other across time itself!_ she marvels once again to herself.  There’s something about being around people so deeply committed to one another, it makes her miss her husband, and even Bobby.  She finds herself wishing that she had someone to worry about like Sam has, she feels so disconnected in comparison.

As Jody is falling asleep she pictures Bobby and the boys, hunting together like he’d once told her about, tramping through the woods  looking for something to shoot at that isn’t a monster for once.  Dean and Sam bumping into each other, both of them cracking jokes and making Bobby grump at them, and she wishes she’d been there to see it herself.  That little family she had inserted herself into at such a horrible time in her life was one of the strongest she’d ever seen.  Each of them devoted to each other so utterly, and she knows she’s only heard a quarter of what they’d sacrificed over the years.  What was it Bobby had said?  _Family don’t end with blood._   She guesses she knows what that really means now.

~*~*~*~*~

Sam and Garth get ready for bed and Sam is struck with how utterly strange this is to be in a motel room with Garth doing this routine instead of Dean.  The noises are all wrong; the order of things happening is all mixed up.  He can barely stand it and manages to get into bed as quickly as possible with muttered thanks as they pass in the bathroom door.  Sam falls asleep very quickly, exhausted from the worry and fight and discussion with his friends, dreaming of riding in the Impala, Dean driving and singing along to Rush, drumming on the steering wheel, sun shining brightly behind his head, smiling that heart-breaking smile that makes him lose all sense of reality.

~*~*~*~*~

Garth just shrugs at Sam’s muttering, and doesn’t take it personally.  Sam’s obviously got a lot on his mind, probably a lot more that he can’t even imagine.  He muses about what it would be like to have someone in his life like Dean and Sam have to help deal with it all.  He realizes he’s a little jealous at the thought of that closeness and support always being there for them and wishes he had something even close to it.

As Garth is drifting off to sleep he remembers Bobby telling him about Sam and Dean when they were little kids, Dean rescuing Sam from the river near the back of the junkyard, finding both of them entwined in the mud, panting and spitting out muddy river water.  But grinning at each other as if there wasn’t anything else they’d rather be doing.  Bobby had said that he’d never seen two kids that in-sync before, that he could see they were going to be a phenomenal hunting team, “That is if those idjits can stay alive long enough at the same time.”  He misses his old mentor with a sudden wave of fierce loss; Bobby was one of a kind.

~*~*~*~*~

Before Sam can make out the door of the motel room to join Jody and Garth in the diner, Cas suddenly appears with the usual fluttering small wind.

“I have located Crowley, he does have Meg as well as The Prophet, thankfully they are not being kept in Hell.”

“That’s great Cas, did you get them out yet?”

“I am unable to without resorting to violence.  Sam, I know I have wronged you in the past.  But will you help me?”

“Cas, I told you, we’re good.  You fixed me, I understood why you did it all.  And yes of course I’ll help.  Just tell me where to go.”

“Crowley has them in the basement of this large house, here is the address, if you are there at noon tomorrow, there will be the least amount of demons for you to deal with.” Cas hands him an old crumpled envelope, sticky with honey, an address written in a purple scrawl.

“Will you come with us at least Cas?”

“Us?” Cas tilts his head in question.

“Yes, our friends that are helping me, please come meet them.”

“Will there be sandwiches?” Cas asks, sounding so much like a ten year old boy Sam almost laughs.

“If you want one, yes, just over there at the diner.” Sam points out the diner he’s walking to across the parking lot.

“This looks like an establishment that Dean would prefer. “ Cas observes as they walk closer to the diner.

“Yes, he loves diners like this, he always says ‘it’s our version of home-cooking’” Sam shares, thinking fondly of the zillions of diners he’s gone to with Dean over the years, suddenly missing him with a fierce, painful wave that almost makes him stumble.

Sam escorts Cas into the busy diner finding the table that Jody and Garth are already seated at, arguing good-naturedly about vampires over steaming cups of coffee.  So far the people at the other tables don’t seem to have noticed the strange topic of conversation.

“Jody, Garth, I’d like you both to meet Castiel, he’s the friend I was telling you about.” Sam interrupts, gesturing at Cas.

Their eyes wide with surprise and no little awe, Jody and Garth both offer their hands for Cas to shake.  At first Cas hesitates as always, but then he smiles the broken, not-all-there smile and shakes for much too long.  Sam touches his hand to get him to stop and they both sit down.

“Did you guys order already?” Sam asks.

“No they haven’t, what would y’all like?” asks the tall waitress suddenly hovering over the edge of the table.

“I’ll have two eggs over easy, wheat toast and fruit salad.  Oh and coffee. He’ll have a club sandwich and fruit salad and a glass of orange juice” Sam says pointing at Cas.

“Pancake special for me.” Garth adds.

“Lumberman’s for me, scrambled and rye, thanks.” Jody finishes.

“That’ll be up soon, I’ll bring the drinks right back.”

“Thanks.” Sam says.

Once she’s brought back the coffee and juice and cleared out of hearing, Sam leans forward and says, “So thanks to you helping me last night, I’ve only got one more blood left to get, and this one is a lot harder.  It’s got to be from the King of Hell.  Now I know that sounds bad, but Cas and I know the guy pretty well, and we’ve got a plan.”

“The King of Hell? As in a demon Sam?” Jody asks, sounding very worried.

“Yeah, a demon named Crowley, he used to just be the King of the Crossroads, but when Dean and I trapped Lucifer, he took over.”

“Trapped Lucifer?” Garth squeaks in surprise?

“Yeah, that’s a really long story, I promise I’ll tell you it some time, the whole thing if you really want to hear it. But for now, we’ve got to rescue two people from Crowley first before I get the blood from him.”

“Who are they?” Jody asks.

“One is important to me, and one is a Prophet of the Lord, I will keep them safe once we take them from Crowley.” Cas answers.

“You should know that the first one he mentioned is a demon, one that’s been on our side for a while now, although she wasn’t before, she took care of Cas when he was ill, when Dean and I couldn’t.  We kind of owe her.  The Prophet is a teenager named Kevin Tran that we met a few months ago that can read the Word of God.  He’s the one that read the spell that got Dick Roman back to Purgatory, we might need him to help with this second Purgatory spell.”

“Why would Crowley be keeping them?”  Garth asks.

“The Prophet would be kept to bargain with the angels, or perhaps to read other tablets that contain the Word.  Meg would currently be in charge of Hell if Crowley were not there, so he is holding her for political reasons.  They have always been on opposite sides.” Cas answers.

“I had no idea there was such a thing as demon politics.” Jody says.

“Yes, it is even worse than the American political system.” Cas answers with the slightest hint of a smile.

They all laugh at that, and at Cas’ slightly confused expression when he hears their laughter.  Just then the waitress appears with the tray of all their food.  It all gets sorted out and Cas’ eyes light up at the sight of the stacked sandwich and colorful fruit on the dishes placed before him.  He touches the waitress’ wrist lightly, “Flo, I thank you very much.” Cas says sincerely.

Flo’s eyes glaze over as if she’s momentarily under a spell, she recovers, shaking her head, “You’re, uh, you’re welcome sir.”  She smiles wanly and heads back to the kitchen.

“So Cas tells me that they’re in Spokane, not far from here, and tomorrow at noon would be the time to go in with the least number of demons to deal with.”  Sam continues.

“Crowley will not be there.” Cas adds, digging into his fruit salad, and chewing loudly.  It reminds Sam briefly and painfully of how Dean eats, reminding him of why he’s doing all this.  So he can sit across grungy diner tables from his brother, watching the food get mashed up in his grinning white teeth.  Sam misses him suddenly so much that his heart aches sharply.

“Well that makes it all easy then.” Garth jokes.

“You’re going to have to tell me how to take care of demons Sam.” Jody says.

Sam recovers, grins across the table at her, “No problem Jody, we’ll work on it.”

“Will Crowley still give you the blood if you take these people away from you?” Garth asks.

“Yeah, it’s a separate thing; he’s very pragmatic that way.  Kind of like a businessman.” Sam answers.

“Cas will you help us? I know you won’t, or can’t fight, but can you be there in case Meg or Kevin are hurt?” Sam asks, hoping that he’s worded it so that Cas can agree.

“Yes Sam.  I will do that.  I will meet you there tomorrow at noon.”  His fork clattering down to his plate, Cas disappears in a whoosh of feathers.  Sam looks around the diner quickly, relieved to see that no one has noticed Cas’ quick exit.

Both Jody and Garth squawk in surprise.

“He always does that, don’t worry you get used to it.” Sam laughs.

~*~*~*~*~

On the drive to Spokane, Sam tells Jody how to take care of demons.  Garth has a lot of questions too as he hasn’t dealt with too many yet.  Sam describes what Meg and Kevin look like in as much detail as he can, just in case they get split up.

“I don’t know what to expect exactly, Cas described it as a big house.  I looked at Google maps and from the street view it might be a mansion, but it’s pretty far back off the street, lots of trees all around it.  The other houses closest are huge estates, all pretty old.”

“Did Cas say how many demons will be there?”

“He said that at noon there are only 3 or 4 left behind, sounds like a shift change or something.  That’s all I know.”  Sam answers.

“Sam, you think these super soakers are gonna work?” Garth asks from the back seat.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.  Just don’t use it all up at once.  And remember, it doesn’t kill the demon, just hurts them and distracts them for a while.  That’s when you come in with the exorcism, right Jody?” Sam points over at Jody riding in the passenger seat.

“Does it hurt the people?” Jody finally asks the question she’s been holding onto for the last hour since Sam told her about how demons will be possessing people who may or may not be alive or severely injured.

“What exorcising?  No, it’s a relief, a huge relief, like a black, oily cloud is gone from your body and your mind all at once.  As long as you’re not too injured from something they’ve done, the person is usually just fine.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience Sam.” Garth notices.

“Uh, yeah, I was possessed once, a long time ago, by Meg actually.”  Sam winces at the memory.

“Why are we rescuing her again if she did that to you?” Garth asks, wondering about all the shades of grey in Sam’s morality he’s suddenly discovering.

“Oh God, it’s all wrapped up in the whole Lucifer/Apocalypse and Angels story, I swear I’ll tell it to you all of it when we’re done.  Can you just trust me that she’s worth rescuing?  One of the last things she said to us when she was helping get rid of Dick Roman was that her way of living boiled down to ‘you find a cause, and you serve it’.  At the moment she was taken by Crowley, her cause was Cas and us.  Me and Dean.” Sam trails off, suddenly thinking of that last desperate day that he and Dean had together.  Making out like it was maybe the last time in the back seat of the Impala.  _It can’t be the last time, I won’t let it,_ Sam vows to himself.

They’re silent the short rest of the time until they get to the address Cas gave them.  They drive by slowly, trying to spot anything useful about the layout of the house and grounds.  Sam parks around the corner out of sight. “Well I noticed no cars, no cameras. You guys?” Sam asks.

“No fence or dogs in sight.” Garth answers.

“Not many doors visible.” Jody adds.

“Okay, you guys got all the things we talked about?  Oh, crap, I almost forgot, hold on “Sam riffles through all the necklaces hanging from the lid in the Impala’s trunk and finds two anti-possession amulets.

“What the hell are those?” Garth asks.

“Anti-possession amulet.  If you’re wearing this, the demons can’t get in you.  Don’t take it off no matter what.” Sam answers, placing one around Jody’s neck, and then Garth’s.

“What about you Sam?” Jody asks, ever the concerned mother.

Sam pulls his shirts aside and shows his tattoo.  Jody and Garth look at each other with eyes that couldn’t go wider in surprise.

They approach the big mansion from the side where there aren’t as many windows and there’s more shade and cover from the trees.  Sam gets close to the first window they see and peers in.  He motions them around towards the door near it.  It opens easily, surprisingly unlocked; no alarms seem to go off.  Once they’re inside with the door shut they let out their held breaths.  Sam takes lead again down the hallway towards where he thinks the kitchen probably is, passing each room checking as they go along; they see and hear no one.  Finally, they freeze in place near the main entrance hallway when they hear footsteps coming towards them.  Sam grips Ruby’s knife and raises it, slashing and stabbing down when the demon goes past the corner.  He covers the demon’s mouth, trying to muffle the sound of screams as he flashes out.

Jody’s eyebrows are wide in fear as she’s realizing that Sam just killed someone.  Garth nods at her reassuringly.  They’re still in it with him though, no backing out now.  Sam gestures for them to continue with him down the hall, the lights are on in the kitchen they can see just ahead.  Someone is humming to themselves loudly.  It’s a demon sitting at the kitchen table with an iPod on full blast, Sam raises the knife again and another demon is dead.  There are three doors in the large kitchen, one goes outside, one when opened shows a walk-in pantry, and the last leads to the basement.  Sam opens it slowly hoping against hope that it won’t creak.  It’s pretty quiet, they all get in on the first few steps and Jody closes the door as quietly as she can.  Sam leads them creeping silently down the stairs until they’re all on the same level, the basement is huge, as big as the house is.  The only sounds are coming from the right so they head in that direction, Sam first, then Garth with his super soakers filled with Holy Water, crisscrossed over his body like bandoliers, and Jody bringing up the rear with a regular knife and a newly memorized demon exorcism.

Around one corner, a large man with jet black eyes, stands up in surprise yelling, “Hey!” before Sam can get to him with the knife.  Sam’s struggling with him, trying to slash in with the knife when another big guy runs out of the last room, yelling “Brett what’s going on?”

The second demon sees Brett fighting off a big guy, but he notices that there’s a much smaller guy and a woman trying to stay out of the way, so he decides to handle those two.

 As soon as he’s within range, Garth hits him with a steady stream of Holy Water.  The demon howls in pain as white mist smokes up from his body, he falls to the floor writhing.  

“C’mon Jody, go!” Garth yells.

Jody rallies herself and starts the exorcism incantation in as loud and steady a voice as she can manage, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus” and before she can get much further, the demon stands up, still smoking, “You trying to exorcise me bitch?”

Jody tries to ignore him and keeps going, while Garth empties the last super soaker out on the demon, the demon collapses writhing and screaming in pain.  Before Jody can finish, the demon flings Garth against the wall hard, he falls into a heap and doesn’t move. 

The demon is turning towards Jody who is on the last sentence, “omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” She yells, finishing just in time as the demon boils out of the man in a thick oily black stream of smoke. 

“Garth!” Jody darts over to the wall and turns Garth over, he’s bleeding profusely from the back of his head and one of his legs is at a very wrong angle.  Jody turns to ask Sam for help just as she sees him far across the room, finally stabbing the demon he’s been fighting with the knife, it flashes out in orange sparking light.  And then all is calm, except for the two of them breathing heavily.

“He okay?” Sam gestures at Garth.

“Yeah, well he’s alive at least, but he’s knocked out, and I’m pretty sure his leg is broken.” Jody answers.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”  Sam tries to appear as reassuring as possible, but he knows she’s got to be more than freaked by seeing all the demons dying.

“Okay, you got it Sam.” Jody replies, nodding as if to reassure him that’s she’s okay enough to leave for now.  She starts searching through her small backpack for something to splint Garth’s leg with. 

Sam approaches the last doorway that remains in the basement and is relieved to see that only Kevin and Meg are inside.  Both are knocked out, whether by supernatural or other means he doesn’t know.  Suddenly he hears Dean’s sarcastic voice in his head _, Great so somehow he and Jody have to get three unconscious people out of the house and off the grounds before Cas can come help.  Yeah Dean he answers, that’s what I’m doing, wanna help_?  And now he’s creeping himself out talking to a Dean that only exists in his head.  Sam shakes his head to put an end to that conversation.

“Jody they’re in here, alone. I think we’re good. Just have to figure out how to get them out.” Sam yells back towards where he left her.

“Sam, I’ve got Garth’s leg splinted, so he can be moved, I’m pretty sure I can manage him.” Jody calls back.

“Okay, you get up and ready, I’ll get these two, luckily they’re small.” Sam answers, preparing himself for the task ahead.

Meg looks to be in really bad shape, covered in bloody cuts from head to toe.  Kevin just looks traumatized, slightly bruised on his cheek.  The stone tablet is lying on a backpack next to him with a notebook and pen.  Sam throws it all back in the backpack and slings it over his own shoulders, letting the weight settle, and adjusting the straps to their maximum.  Then he reaches down and slings Kevin over his shoulders easily.  Kevin flops around a little loosely but doesn’t fall as Sam scoops up Meg into his arms in a fireman’s carry.  Ducking out the doorway he motions for Jody to follow him.  Using every ounce of energy he has left to make it up the stairs and kick open the door at the top. Wary that more demons may have arrived, he walks slowly towards the door they originally entered through.  “c’mon Jody, we gotta get out of here!”

“Okay, Sam, I’m right behind you.”  Jody struggles along with a semi-conscious Garth, who is just barely with-it enough to be hopping helpfully on one leg, his face pale and drawn in pain.

“We just have to get to the property boundary, then Cas will help.”

Sam scans the yard, hoping against hope that no demons are outside, and they’re lucky for once, the one demon who notices them is way down by the water, and can’t even come close to reaching them in time.  As soon as they’re past the hedges at the street Cas is there and blinks them one by one back to the motel.  Sam is last to arrive, and Jody’s already got Garth on one bed and Meg on another, Kevin is in one of the chairs slumped over the table.

“What do you need Jody?” Sam asks as soon as he shakes off the momentary dizziness from being angel-transported.

“Clean towels, hot water and bandages if you’ve got ‘em.” She answers.

Cas is leaning over Meg, stroking her face gently, a serious look on his face.  “Sam I must use my last energy to heal her, she’s near death.  I will not be of any use to you for some time. Garth will have to heal on his own, Kevin should awaken soon, I’m sorry I don’t have enough to heal both after moving everyone and your car.”

Sam smiles at his friend’s forethought in bringing back the car, “Okay Cas, do it.  We’ll take care of Garth and Kevin.”

“Thank you Sam.” Cas answers seriously, and Sam knows he really truly means it, because Meg, for whatever reason, is very important to Cas.  Sam’s not sure exactly in what way, romantic or what, and he really doesn’t care, but she helps Cas stay grounded and he needs her.

Sam watches as Cas places both of his hands at the top of Meg’s head and slowly moves them down her body, a greenish blue light coming out in the small space between his hands and her body. 

“Sam, can you help with Garth?” Jody asks loudly, which snaps Sam out of his trance watching the healing so closely.

“Yeah, uh sorry, here are the towels; I’m running the water so it gets hot, hold on.”

“Thanks, I just want to stop the bleeding.”

After a while, it becomes obvious to Jody, that Garth needs a hospital, “Sam, we’ve got to take him in, his head wound won’t stop bleeding, and he’s showing a lot of signs of a bad concussion, his breathing is slowing down and his heart rate is becoming erratic.”

“Okay, I’ll get the car ready.” Sam pulls one of the bedspreads out from under Garth and takes it out to the car with several of the pillows.  He arranges it all and runs back in the room for Garth, picks him up gently, like he weighs close to nothing, because he doesn’t weigh much at all.  “Cas we’re going to the hospital.  I’ll leave Kevin here since he’s still sleeping.  You okay?”

“Yes Sam, that is fine, I’m almost done with Meg.” Cas replies, not really looking up from his close examination of Meg.

Sam pauses at the door, “She going to be okay?” he asks kindly.

Cas smiles that new half-smile at him, “Yes Sam, she will recover, thank you. You must hurry though, we’re running out of time to retrieve Dean.”

After Garth is checked in and settled in a room, Sam lets Jody know he needs to leave.

“I’m really sorry to have to run out like this, but Cas told me that our time is almost up to save Dean.”

“I figured as much, don’t worry about it Sam, I’ll just hang her until Garth’s better enough to be able to kick me out.  After what I saw today, I don’t think I’d be much use to you.  Just keep me posted, okay?”

“Jody, thank you for everything, Dean and I will make it up to you somehow, I swear.”  Sam means it with everything he is, that he and Dean will repay Jody’s kindness no matter what it takes.  Finally he gives in and pulls her into an impulsive hug.

“I’ll hold you to that Mr. Winchester, now go save that brother of yours wouldja.” Jody hugs him back, and smiles up at him.  They step back from each other and she nods firmly dismissing him from lingering a minute longer than necessary.

For a second there, Sam’s sure she’s about to call him an idjit, and his heart contracts on itself remembering Bobby.  Jody smiles at him again and waves.  He takes off then, runs back out to the hospital parking lot and slides easily into the Impala’s driver’s seat.  All of a sudden it all catches up with him in the quiet of the car, their Home, and a frustrated sob escapes from deep in his chest, a few tears drop down his cheeks, hitting the steering wheel.  He’s struck with the enormity of what’s at stake, the possibility of his brother never coming back to him, and everything he’s done so far being for nothing, risking their friends, he tells himself that _he’s got to pull it together and finish this_.

~*~*~*~*~

Back at the motel, not much has changed, Meg looks a little better, Kevin seems to be stirring, and Cas is lying unmoving on the bed next to Meg with his eyes closed.  Sam comes in quietly, bearing some food he’s picked up from the diner they’d had breakfast in yesterday morning.

“Hey I’m back, I got us some dinner.” Sam sits down as quietly as he can at the table where he sets the bags next to the head of the not-quite-awakening Kevin.

“I do not need to eat, but Kevin will need something when he awakens.” Cas answers without opening his eyes or really moving.

“You were right, Garth’s going to be fine, they reset his leg and his concussion isn’t too serious.  Jody is staying there with him for a while.  How’s she doing?” Sam asks, gesturing at Meg.

“She will recover soon.” Cas says in a tired monotone.

“Why couldn’t you heal Garth really?” Sam asks, he can’t help himself being curious about Cas’ varying level of abilities.

“My powers were drained almost completely because Meg is a demon, and angels are not meant to use their energy to heal demons.  I knew from examining Garth that human doctors would be sufficient.”

“Angel triage, how about that.” Sam comments mostly to himself.

“Sam?” a sleepy voiced Kevin asks, lifting his head up off the table slowly “Is that really you?”

“Yeah, hi Kevin, how ya doin’?”

“Feel like I’ve been sleeping for weeks, I’m starving.”  Kevin leans back and stretches his arms out wide, yawning.

“Here, got you a veggie burger.” Sam hands over one of the containers out of the bag.

Kevin smiles in surprise, “How’d you know I’m a vegan?”

“Just a good guess.” Sam smiles back at him, glad that he’s gotten something right today.

“So where are we anyways?  Who are they on the bed over there? I can’t really see their faces; it’s so dark in here.”

“You’re in Seattle, and you already know those two, that's Cas and Meg.”

“Yeah, I saw Meg before, when I was with Crowley, he sure doesn’t think much of her.”

“Cas tells me that they’ve always been on opposite sides, and always for them means thousands of years.”

“Didn’t Cas disappear with Dean when he killed Dick Roman?”

“Yeah. They both got sucked into Purgatory along with Dick; you might say they were standing too close to sucking Dick.”

“Sucking Dick, oh that’s hilarious Sam.” Kevin says dryly and grins through a mouthful of veggie burger.

“Sorry, bad habit I got into with Dean, those Dick jokes were practically the only things we laughed about the last few months.” Sam smiles sadly, mostly to himself, one of those internal jokes that are unexplainable to anyone else.

“That’s okay, I can take it.” Kevin states, not really minding having to endure a few bad jokes from his rescuer. “So where’s Dean?”

“Uh, still in Purgatory, only Cas got out.  We’re working on it.” Sam can’t look at him when he says it, sure that this is the time he’ll burst into tears, and he’s the leader now, can’t show anyone how far gone and desperate he really is.

“Well, thanks for taking time out and saving me.” Kevin says sincerely, finishing his drink with a loud slurp, hoping to get Sam’s attention so that he can see if his thanks is accepted or welcomed.

“You’re welcome, I’m glad it worked out.” Sam answers, not sure when is the right time to ask if he’s translated the Purgatory spell yet.

“I’m betting you need the spell from the tablet.” Kevin offers.

“What spell?” Sam asks, heart in his throat.

“The one about how to get someone out of Purgatory, it came right after the one we used to put Dick back in there.  Crowley had me translating the rest of the tablet while he had me, wanted to know if there was anything mentioned about demons.  I didn’t tell him that that’s on a different tablet.”

Sam raises his eyebrows in surprise at that, “A different tablet? One just about demons?”

“Yeah, don’t ask me where it is, it’s just mentioned in the index thing on the tablet we have.  I mean, we do have it right?” Kevin points towards the backpack hanging off the chair.

“Yeah, it’s in there, didn’t think you’d be too thrilled if I left it with Crowley.  So the spell, what’s it say?”  Sam asks, grinning at Kevin’s quickness even under such duress.

“It’s in here, written out.”  Kevin gets up and digs around in the backpack, retrieving the notebook, flipping through it until he finds the right page.  “Here it is, check it out.”

Sam reads through it quickly, seeing that it’s as Cas had said, same bone weapon required, but some words that have to be said by: **_‘A Being Older Than I.’_** “What does that mean Kevin?” Sam points at the sentence.

Kevin shrugs, “I don’t know, this is God’s word, so who’s supposed to be older than Him?”

Thinking about it for a second, Sam remembers a conversation he’d had with Dean, right after he’d saved Chicago from being wiped out, by sitting down with Death and eating pizza. “Death, it means Death.  He told Dean once that he was older than God himself and would reap him eventually.”

“Wow, Dean’s really met Death?”

“Yeah, he has, a few times.  I have too, but just once, he’s actually pretty cool.  Wicked sense of humor and he loves junk food more than Dean does.”

“Sam, are we going to talk to Death?” Kevin asks, with no little awe and maybe a little fear in his voice.

“Looks like it.”  Sam grins again, thinking that only in his weird life would talking to Death be something to look forward to.

~*~*~*~*~

After much discussion, Sam, Cas and Kevin decide to take a chance and summon Death with the binding spell that Sam, Dean and Bobby had used when they were trying to help stop the god Cas had become and close Purgatory the first time.   Cas has to zap out and retrieve some of the items for the ritual. When he returns with the crystalized lightning bolt and all the other arcane items, Cas remains on the bed by Meg’s side, hoping that Death will ignore his presence and not remark on their last meeting.  Sam is surprised that he’s stayed as long as he has, and reminds himself to tell Dean of Cas’ bravery in possibly confronting Death once again.

Kevin stands at the small table with Sam assisting with the ritual which goes quickly once they start.  And soon, they are joined by a new silent presence.

“You! The last time you tried this I told you it wouldn’t end well.  What makes you think I won’t follow through?” Death says, incredulous that they’ve done this again, and with that puffed-angel who would be God.  He moves his wrists restlessly making the magical chain binding his wrists jingle and chime.

“The Balance.” Sam answers with more assurance than he feels inside.

“You’ve guessed correctly, I know you’ve been trying to find a way to return your brother from Purgatory, Samuel.  Our aims are the same.  He does not belong there, and it is a problem for the Balance of All. The creation of Purgatory did not include provisions for live humans being there.”

Sam takes a deep breath and asks as forcefully as possible, “Can you get him for me?”

“Unfortunately no.  If I had been able to, I would have done that already.  As God created the dimension of Purgatory I am not allowed to interfere.” Death answers with a hint of sarcasm and pettiness.

Not able to give up, Sam asks a final time, “But if I make the weapon, will you wield it, and pull Dean back here?”

Death nods regally and replies in a tone that indicates a significant promise being made, “Yes, Samuel I will wield the weapon and retrieve your Dean for you.  Show me the words; it has been a long time since I have read them.”

Kevin stumbles forward with his notebook and points to the translated phrase. “Thank you prophet.” Death says, nodding formally at Kevin.

“I don’t want to do this binding spell on you again, how can I contact you when I have it?” Sam asks.

“Thank you for your courteousness.  Your prophet will be able to tell you. I will see you soon Samuel.”

Sam nods and releases him from the binding spell.  And with a no-sound, inaudible popping sort of sound, Death is suddenly just not there.  Sam whirls around and asks Kevin, “Do you know? Is there something about contacting Death?”

Kevin takes a lot longer than usual to answer, still sort of stunned from encountering the actual being, Death. He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts, “Yeah, it was in the index, almost like a contingency plan, _if you can’t deal, call him kind of thing_.  I’ll write it out for you.”  He moves to sit at the table, turning to a blank page in his notebook, quickly writing out the directions.  Kevin rips the paper out and hands it to Sam, “Good luck dude, you’re going to need it.”

“Yeah, thanks Kevin.  Hey Cas? You got someplace you could take Kevin so he’d be safe from Crowley?”

“Yes Sam, I will take him there with Meg. Once they are there, I will not be able to return for quite some time as I will need to rest.  Transporting is difficult when I am not at full strength.”

“That’s good you have a place for them, just keep them safe, okay Cas?” Sam says, seeing Cas’ solemn nod as the promise he needs.

Kevin stands up from the table, putting the tablet and everything back into his backpack; he extends his hand to shake Sam’s, “Bye Sam, thanks for getting me.”

“You’re welcome Kevin, you hang tight with Cas, everything should be fixed pretty soon.”

Letting go of Sam’s hand, Kevin picks up his backpack, “Thanks for saying that, I know it’s never going to be the same for me though.  I’m strangely okay with that now though.  After seeing what I’ve seen, I couldn’t go back to what I was before.”

Sam thumps him on the shoulder, “That’s way too well-adjusted man, good for you.”

“Goodbye Sam, remember, you must hurry, Dean needs you to help him right away.” Cas says as he zaps out with both an unconscious Meg and a wide-eyed Kevin the Prophet of the Lord, the wing fluttering slightly louder than usual.

~*~*~*~*~

Left all alone, Sam sits on the bed and puts his head in his hands, just breathing deeply for a while.  There isn’t much he can do, except follow through and summon Crowley to get his blood.  But first he allows himself a second to picture Dean in one of his favorite memories, all beaten up, lip bleeding, talking to him across the roof of the Impala.  The sun setting behind him, lining his face in gold as he smiled and told him he was a pain in the ass and thanked Sam for sticking around. He’d never seen Dean as beautiful before that day and he remembers how hard it was not to just walk around the car and kiss him senseless right then and there.

Shaking off the weight of memories, Sam assembles the ingredients for summoning Crowley. Before he can do the spell, his Blackberry chimes with a new message from Charlie,

“ _Harry, we’ve stopped Voldemort’s plans completely, hope your vacation with Ron is hot fun. Love, Hermione_ ”

Sam laughs a little to himself, Charlie had confessed to being a Harry/Ron Best Mate shipper when they’d been talking Harry Potter fandom the first time they’d met.  Funny that she’d consider him and Dean to be like that too.  Maybe they are more obvious than they think they’re being, if someone who’s only met them once would come to that conclusion.

Finally, this is it, his last best chance to save Dean, his friends far enough away, and the ingredients and the words of the Purgatory spell are there at hand. Sam knows dealing with Crowley is a huge risk, but it’s one he’s willing to take.  Hoping that the price he asks for his blood won’t be something Sam can’t afford.  He has no idea what he has that Crowley would even want, but who knows, the King of Hell is one tricky bastard. He admits to himself that he is worried that Dean won’t forgive him for making another demon deal, but tells himself that they’ll deal with that when he’s back here. Out of Purgatory. 

Sam doesn’t have too long of a wait this time before the smirking demon appears near the motel room doorway, just outside the devil’s trap Sam had drawn.  Crowley wags his finger back and forth at Sam, “Nunh, unh, unh, still don’t trust me eh Stretch? Guess you’re smarter than you look after all.  So, got all the goodies already?”

Standing up as tall as possible, Sam answers with all the bravado he can muster, “Yeah, got it all, just need your contribution Crowley.  What’s the price you’re asking?”

“Just a week Moose, that’s all I ask, and I’ll give you your tiger back. You two can get back to stinking up the Impala ‘til it smells like a Paris whorehouse again.”  Crowley wiggles his eyebrows unnecessarily, trying to get a rise out of Sam.

Sam ignores the jibe about Dean and his unusual relationship, “What exactly do you mean by a week?”

Crowley walks closer and runs a hand up Sam’s arm proprietarily, “A week of your time, in my service.  During which you will be at my beck and call.  To use as I see fit.”

“Doing what exactly?” Sam asks, shaking him off, wary and full of suspicion

Crowley laughs and says grinning with a predatory smile that scares Sam down to his core, “That’s the whole point darling, anything and everything, all up to me, and you can’t refuse.  But once the week’s up, you’ll have the Purgatory weapon all ready to go and you can get that brother of yours back one more time.”

“Let me read the contract.” Sam demands.

“Have a seat there, just one second.” Sam sits at the table and looks suspiciously at Crowley.  With a flourish and a small popping sound, a handsome looking scroll of parchment is in Crowley’s hands; he unrolls it and tosses the end over to Sam.  He reads it for a while, running a finger along the fountain pen scrawl.

After reading through the whole thing, Sam says firmly, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Really, how surprising.  Alrighty then, you sign here, and here. Oh, and initial there.”  Crowley produces a fountain pen and watches as Sam etches his name.  He rolls up the scroll and tucks it into his jacket, “I assume you want to do this soon Sam?”

“Yeah, as soon as we can.” Sam answers, itching to get this over with, and Dean back.

Crowley looks him up and down slowly, as if he’s checking out the merchandise he’s buying, “Fifteen minutes enough?”

Sam stands, “Yeah, I’ll be ready then.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”  Crowley poofs off out of sight, and Sam’s left alone in the dingy motel room, with fifteen minutes to pack, check out and call Jody to let her know where the car is and what he’s doing.

~*~*~*~*~

“Sam I really don’t think this is a good idea, who knows what he’ll do to you.  Bobby told me about how Crowley almost kept his soul, doesn’t seem like a straight shooter you know?” Jody’s voice sounds so urgent over the phone.

“I don’t have a choice Jody, I don’t have anything else to offer him, and I can’t make the Purgatory weapon without his blood.  Cas told me I have to hurry, that Dean was in real trouble, I can’t take any more time to think about this, it’s already going to be one more week as it is, with this deal.  I can’t leave him there any longer, I need him back here.”

He hears Jody sigh, and is almost ready to hang up, he’s not looking for her approval, he just wanted someone to know what he’s doing, finally she answers, sounding resigned, “Alright Sam, alright, I get it.  I’ll come pick up the car tomorrow.”

“Thanks Jody, for everything, I’ll never forget what you’ve done for us.”

“Sam cut it out, just be safe, and let me know when you’ve got Dean back, okay?  Good luck kid.”

Sam’s locking the door of the Impala and leaning up against the driver’s door, ready to hear what the first thing Crowley will ask of him.   That’s when Crowley appears of course, and snaps his fingers.  When Sam opens his eyes, he’s still leaning up against the Impala, but now they’re on a circular gravel driveway in front of a slightly decrepit mansion.

“Where are we?” Sam asks, a little dazed from the quick transport, but glad that the car is there to lean on.

“Still in Washington pet, not far from Spokane, but I thought you’d want to keep your car close instead of leaving it behind.  I know how attached your Dean is to the thing.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam’s not happy because now Jody will be worried since the car will be missing from where he’d told her to pick it up, and he doubts Crowley’s going to let him use his cellphone for the next week.

“Before we go in, I want to watch you make this Purgatory key.  Here’s my blood.” Crowley produces a blood-filled ornate glass vial with a flourish.

“Okay, uh, let me get the stuff out, hold on.” Sam rummages in the trunk of the Impala, furiously thinking as fast as he can, trying to figure out why the hell Crowley would insist on making the weapon now before the week starts.  He decides it’s probably to tease him with while he’s being held or whatever’s going to happen during his week of service that he’s trading to Crowley.  Sam combines the three bloods in the biggest container, swirls it around to mix it completely, then holding the bone over a wooden bowl, he pours the blood over the bone.  It soaks in immediately.

“There done.”  Sam says, wiping his hands off on a towel and throwing all the empty vials into the bowl.  He holds the bone up so Crowley can see it.

“That’s all there is to it? I’ve forgotten how simple the oldest spells are.”  Crowley holds his hand out to take the bone from Sam, “Let me put this away somewhere safe for you while you’re in my service.”

Sam reluctantly hands it over, but what choice does he really have.  There’s no escape from this deal and he knows it.  All he can do is survive whatever’s coming as well as he can.

They begin walking up the wide marble steps to the entrance of the mansion.  “So this is where my Court is currently, while I’m up here on Earth. You’ll be needing these.”  Crowley snaps his fingers and a leather collar; wrist and ankle cuffs are suddenly tightly bound on Sam.  Crowley holds the slim silver chain that’s attached to the collar.  “Let’s go inside shall we?”

“Really, is this stuff necessary Crowley?”

“Yes Sam, I’m sorry it is.  After all that business with your flighty angel friend and with Meg getting away from me, I’m in a position where I have something to prove.  And you my dear are going to help me with that.  Subduing a Winchester will mean something to this lot. As moronic as they are, displays of power are one of the few messages that they’ll receive loud and clear.”

“Is Meg challenging you to be ruler of Hell or something?”

“You don’t miss a trick do you? Yes, actually she is.  That’s part of this too.  I’ll admit I have some regret about this Sam, it’s not what you deserve, what’s coming this week for you, but I’m afraid it’s necessary for me to keep my position.”

As they walk through the doors of the moldering mansion, Sam hears a soundtrack of terribly cheesy music playing, something from the 70’s, maybe Neil Diamond.  The walls and floor of the hallway become less and less distinct as they walk towards an ornate door.  As they go through the doorway there’s an invisible barrier they push through which feels like a bath of sticky, pulling nasty Jell-o. “What the hell was that?” Sam asks after he passes through. 

“You’re in my Court now Sam, this is a place of Hell, but not in Hell, it’s wherever I need it to be.” Crowley leads him in by the chain attached to his neck.  Sam doesn’t resist, knowing there’s no point, this is what he signed up to do, and it will all be worth it when Dean is back. He’s just got to keep that in mind, this is all for Dean.

They’re in a large grand hall now, damp stone walls covered with expensive looking weavings and banners, a carved wooden throne is on a raised dais at one end, and an iron rack is affixed to the opposite wall.  The place is packed full of demons, lounging around on over-stuffed couches, all paying rapt attention to Crowley and his new prisoner.  Before he knows it, Sam is being secured on the rack with thick metal chains, by two burly demons.  A huge crowd of demons is standing around, their eyes gone blank and black with greed and anticipation. 

“I now present for your enjoyment, the famous demon-hunter and former vessel of Lucifer, son of John and brother of Dean, Samuel Winchester.”  Crowley announces formally from the dais, a cocky look of pride on his face.  The demons applaud wildly and surge forward towards Sam.

“You know the rules, just like Downstairs, anything you take off has to be replaced, anything you take apart has to be put back together, seniority rules for who goes first.” Crowley intones in a voice ringing with power and authority, he then turns away from the crowd and seats himself on his throne looking away from the commotion.

The demons grumble, because they don’t like rules anymore than humans do.  The oldest, most senior of demons approaches Sam as they all watch him with hungry black eyes, wishing they got to be first.  He produces a shining thin knife which he cuts all of Sam’s clothes off with, piece by piece falling to the floor.  Sam tries to hold still, knowing that if he says or does anything it will just make it that much worse, tries to find a place to hide in his mind from the abuse that he knows is coming.  But his mind is brought right back to the room when the demon begins cutting him lightly all over, just enough to really hurt.  Sam can’t help screaming with the pain of it, as the knife cuts deeper and deeper, his blood running down his naked body.  The crowd of demons presses closer and begins to cheer loudly with glee. 

Sam passes out eventually, and awakes some indeterminate time later, face-down, tied to a high bench by his arms and legs, head held tight off one end of the bench in a type of cage.  He realizes there’s no way to move, to get any leverage  as an endless parade of cocks to suck begin appearing, one after the other until Sam thinks he’s only imagining it.  He keeps telling himself that _; this isn’t real, not really happening. Dean, Dean, it’s all for you_. Then those cocks are in his ass too, one after the other, and he knows he’s getting ripped, can feel the blood running down his thighs, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it.  He just has to make it through.  It reminds him so much of what he went through in the Cage, but at least in there it was only Lucifer, Michael and Adam.  Here there’s no end to it.  There’s so many of them, female demons too, moving his position on the bench, mounting him and writhing sinuously just like Ruby had, making him want to vomit at the memory of her thick blood in his mouth.

Distantly, at a remove from himself, he realizes the demons are all trying to prove something to each other and Crowley, instead of just being full of rage at being trapped in Crowley’s service just like Sam is.  To protect himself Sam struggles to just remain separate from his body and go into his memories, thinking of Dean, only Dean. 

_The Dean he loves and needs._

_Dean, the reason he’s doing this, who he’s doing it for._

 It’s the only thing that gets him through, holding onto the thought of Dean beside him again where he needs to be. 

After a time, which has truly lost all meaning, everything stops for a while, Sam’s dimly aware that he’s strung up against the wall, on the rack this time.  He tries to retreat back into his memories where Dean is, where he can see them together in bed after motel bed; lighting fireworks; burning wendigos and changelings; digging up graves; driving down sun-drenched highways.  Always together, him and Dean, Dean and him, together through it all.  But out there in the real world, someone is trying to make him drink water.  His blood-crusted eyes crack open and he sees that Bela is the one holding the cup at his lips.  She flashes her black eyes at him, “Here Sam, drink this, it’ll help.”

Sam remembers the old fantasies he’d entertained about Bela back when they’d first met her, before she’d screwed them over and stolen The Colt.  Through the pain he sees that she’s actually helping him, giving him small bits of food and water.  He manages to speak in a completely ruined hoarse voice through his cracked and sore bleeding lips, “Thank you Bela, I always knew you were good somewhere deep down under all that wounded criminal façade crap.”

“Oh dear Sam, I’m not good. I don’t believe I ever was. Whatever gave you that silly idea? I’m just the one they picked to keep you alive until the next part.”

“Next part?”  Sam asks with dread.

“Yes pet, it’s time to see if you’re still at all the Boy King you were meant to be, let’s see if you’ve still got those powers you gave up on.  Be what we all know you could have been.” Crowley taunts from his throne.

Cup after cup of demon blood is forced down Sam’s throat until he feels full enough to burst.  All the demons line up to donate theirs, happy to feed it to him, loving the humiliation and disgust pouring off of Sam.

“No more, I can’t drink anymore, please enough.”  Sam can feel the old thirst for blood reawakening deep inside, something uncurling as if from hibernation.  The evil slithers through his system as the blood starts taking over.  He starts feeling the furnace of power stoking up in his belly that was always so hungry, but he’s so broken and tired that it’s more of an annoyance than something he can use.

“Come on Sam, let’s see those eyes.  Gone black yet?  No, well then one more cup might do it, try some of mine this time.” Crowley purrs.

Sam chokes it down, but his eyes still don’t turn, he won’t let them.  It’s taking the last bit of stubbornness he possesses to resist.  Crowley throws the cup down in disgust, “I’m tired of all this.  You’ve all had your fun and I’m bored.  Time to finish off this three-act play and call in the main attraction.  Bela bring me that bone would you darling?”

“What are you going to do?” Sam asks, voice thick with the thrum of the demon blood coating his throat.

“Thanks to all the excellent work of my minions, you spilled the details on how to use this thing, so I’m about to make a long distance call to an old friend of yours.  Ohhhh Deathhh, Come On Down!” Crowley roars.

 “No, Crowley, not now.  You can’t bring him back now! I thought you were going to let me leave first!” Sam yells with the rest of his energy, horrified that Dean will see this, see him drinking demon blood again, not to mention naked and wrecked in this room of demons.

“Sorry dear, since you didn’t specify that I couldn’t try to bring Dean back during your week of service, you’ve left that up to me. Deal or no deal, it wasn’t in there, so no.  He comes back here and now, right when you’re at your very worst. We’ll see if he still wants anything to do with you now.” Crowley pronounces, triumphantly.

“No, ask me for anything else, don’t let him see this, you just can’t. Please, I’ll do anything.” Sam pleads, voice cracking as he thinks of how this will break Dean completely, more than anything else possible. 

“No Sam, I think your darling Dean needs to see this, don’t you?  How far you’ll go for him, just how much you’ve given?  Maybe he’ll finally appreciate you like he always should have.” Crowley taunts, his voice full of derisive glee.

“Crowley, please, don’t do this.  Think of all we’ve ever done for you.”Sam begs, he can’t let Dean see him like this, what he’s done to get him back, how far he’s sunk.

“What **_you two_** did for **_me_**? Oh please!” Crowley is much too pleased with how broken Sam is at the idea, since he’s hasn’t completely given up enough during all the torture and demon blood. 

He turns his back on Sam, still hung up on the rack at the back of the throne room begging hoarsely to please let him down before Dean comes back.  Sam’s sobs follow him across the room as he walks back towards his throne.  He places the Purgatory weapon on a table and sits back on his throne.  Crowley looks out over the crowd; they’re seething with excitement, just where he wants them.  All of Crowley’s Court is turned out and waiting to see the other famous hunter appear before them.  Great anticipation fills them all, spirits are high and the chatter is loud, Sam can hear them all speculating about how the Great and Mighty Dean Winchester has fallen so far, and won’t he be so pleased to see his little brother has finally joined him there. 

Sam closes his eyes and tries to ignore their taunts, to ignore it all, but Crowley notices and Sam’s eyes are opened forcefully and stuck that way by the invisible demon force Sam has come to loathe more than anything this past week.  “Only an hour left to go Sam, you’re not going to want to miss any of this pet. Pay attention.”

Death appears suddenly, and Sam flushes with shame that he’s naked and bloody and tied to the rack on the wall like some stuffed trophy.  Death raises one eyebrow in sardonic surprise and nods in Sam’s direction, but then he turns his attention to Crowley.  “Crowley, where is it?”

“What no hello? Too good for a little chitchat, eh, mate?”

“I have no interest in making small talk with one such as you.  Are we agreed that if I retrieve Dean Winchester, you’ll release both he **and** his Samuel without any further harm?”

“Yes we are agreed.” Crowley assents with a worried look towards the state that Sam is in after hearing Death’s pointed ‘ _his Samuel’_. 

“Then I shall proceed.”  Death takes the bone weapon from the table next to Crowley’s throne, and intones a series of unintelligible phrases.  The space directly in front of Death where he’s pointing the bone begins to shimmer and a low hum starts up.

There’s a tortured sucking sound like a vacuum cleaner stuck in place but still running and then all the demons  in attendance burst into surprised laughter at the sight of Dean’s sudden appearance in the middle of the grand room. He’s crouched and beaten bloody and naked and completely out of it, a wild animal more than a person, cowering, terrified, unable to rise from the floor from the sheer terror of all the eyes looking at him, the cruel laughter and stench of coppery blood invading his senses.

Death approaches him, reaches down to touch his forehead, then waves his hand and the confusion clears from Dean’s face instantly and he’s suddenly upright in a defensive crouch trying to assess the situation and figure a way to get out like the hunter he will always be.  Death surveys him with a look that almost makes it all the way to sympathetic and then he abruptly disappears without a further word to anyone.

All the demons continue to laugh at Dean, as he methodically turns around surveying the whole room, and then he finally spots Sam, still hung up on the rack on the back wall.  He runs in a lopsided, painful shamble to Sam, screaming out his name, pulling at his secured legs, trying to get him loose, begging him to say something.  Sam can only stare at him mutely with pleading eyes that Dean try to understand that he had to do this, he had no other choice.  Dean seems to suddenly realize something and turns his back on Sam, zeroing in on the figure standing on the dais across the room, “Crowley, I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but it ends now.  He’s mine not yours, let him down.”

“Well mate, technically he’s mine for the rest of the hour, tell you what, you can use him any way you like until times up and then I’ll let him down. Deal?”

“You son of a bitch.  Let him down now.” Dean demands.

“No you ponce, you don’t understand, he’s under contract to me. He’s not going anywhere until that hour’s up.”

Dean advances on the dais, coming nearer to Crowley, “Yeah right, like he’d make a deal with you dicks, Sam knows better than that!”

“Turns out you’ve no imagination after all, why am I surprised?  Of course he made a deal with me you brainless twit; I was the only game in town. And oh was he ever worth it.  All of us here enjoyed ourselves immensely, you’ve trained him very well Dean, his cock-sucking skills are indeed something to be proud of, unless that was courtesy of Lucifer that is.”

“Shut up you son of a bitch” Dean lunges at Crowley, tries to get his hands around Crowley’s throat to choke him.  Crowley effortlessly tosses Dean against the wall, so he’s pinned up next to Sam, screaming in pain. 

For Sam it’s like a replay of that lonesome godforsaken cabin when his Azazel- possessed father held them both immobile. He couldn’t help Dean being ripped apart from the insides out.  It’s too much, it’s too much the same thing all over again, and he couldn’t stop it then, he can’t stop it now, and he can’t take it, seeing Dean hurting because he can’t save him **_again_**. 

And ** _that_** is when Sam finally loses it. 

The pain, humiliation and torture he’s suffered this past week are nothing compared to seeing his brother helpless and screaming and being ripped apart all over again.  Something breaks deep inside of him and those old powers are released. They resurface but are multiplied a thousand fold.  He’s always denied them, tried to ignore them, hoped they were gone for good, but now they’re coming up to the surface, it’s like a live thing coming up from deep in the ocean, seeing the light, shooting up fast, breaking the surface and gasping in air, getting instantly stronger. 

Sam feels bigger, so much bigger all of a sudden, his body thrumming, his powers expanding out forcefully and all the demons in the room die instantly in screaming burning smoking heaps around the room. 

All of them are dead, except Crowley and Bela who are now held fast up against the opposite wall, just above the throne. 

Sam’s so big now, his bonds break suddenly, the metal chains flying apart, clanging to the floor in pieces and he falls to the floor in a crumpled heap along with the collar and cuffs. Dean’s fallen too, but he’s on his feet first and helps Sam up and hugs him tightly, crushing their bodies together; completely mindless of them both being naked and filthy.  Their reunion is cut short when Sam sees Crowley getting a hand free; he tucks Dean into his left side, and Dean holding on in such an uncharacteristically clingy way it takes his breath away for a moment.  Sam puts his right hand out in his old demon pulling gesture and Crowley instantly stills and cries out in pain.  “Guess you shouldn’t have given me all that blood Crowley.”

Crowley cringes in pain, pinned against the wall, barely able to move, “Don’t go back on your deal Moose, you won’t like the repercussions.”

“What, I have like a half an hour left right?  I’ll just stay here, play awhile, then we’ll be square right?”

“No Sam, that was not our arrangement.  You were to be mine for one week.”

“Let me out of the rest of my time, and I won’t kill you.”

“You don’t have the mojo, Gigantor.”

With a scream Bela falls from the wall, soon she’s just another smoking pile of demon ruins.

Sam sneers, “Just try me.”

Crowley’s eyes are wide with fear, not sure if Sam really can do it, “Alright, alright, you’re free. Just go.”

“We never want to see you again Crowley.”

“Likewise I’m sure, both of you.”

“c’mon Sam, let’s get out of here”, Dean tugs on Sam to get him to back away from his confrontation with Crowley, hand on the small of Sam’s back to guide him out of the room.  Sam stops and shakes himself out of it, and pulls Dean close in against his side again, Dean complies willingly, too tired to argue.  “Yeah, let’s go.”

Sam practically carries Dean out to the Impala that is still parked in front of the old mansion, right where he had last seen it a week ago.  He props Dean up against the side of the car and gets some clothes for both of them out of his duffle bag in the trunk.  Dressing a nearly boneless Dean first, he gets him to sit in the passenger seat, then pulls on his clothes and starts up the car.

“Where we going Sammy?” Dean asks in a slurred voice, it’s obvious he’s about to crash into unconsciousness.

“As far away from here as I can get us.” Sam says grimly, pulling Dean close in against him, driving one-armed is not a problem, he’s still feeling strong after the demon blood.  But he feels different, not like he did after Lucifer rose when he was really weak.  There’s still a lot of pain from what the demons and Crowley did to him, and he doesn’t want to think about how much it hurts to sit down right now, but the residual energy from the demon blood is helping him get past it, for now.  Dean falls asleep almost instantly, going soft and warm, molding himself against Sam’s side, head on his shoulder. 

Sam drives for hours; they’re out of eastern Washington very quickly, thankfully Crowley wasn’t lying about his court being in Spokane.  Before Sam even notices, they’re across the skinny part of Idaho and already over the border into Montana.  He catches himself wishing he could just drive the rest of the way to Bobby’s house, but remembers with a painful sigh that there isn’t a Bobby or his house to go to for help anymore.  Rufus’ cabin it is then, and thankfully it isn’t too much further to Whitefish.  It’s not easy, not by a long shot, but he makes it, because he has to, there’s no one else but him. While he’s driving, he leaves Jody a short message telling her he’s got Dean and the car back.  When the cabin is finally in the headlights, he finds he barely has enough energy left to pull Dean up the steps and inside.  The last thing he’s able to do is curl up with Dean on the small bed, instantly passing out.

~*~*~*~*~

The next thing Sam’s aware of is being in the Impala again, but this time he’s riding.  He blinks open crusted-over eyes and looks up to see Dean driving with a wild look in his eye and his concentrating frown in place.  He’s got his head in Dean’s lap and can tell he’s wrapped up in a blanket.

“Where’re we goin’?” Sam mumbles.

“Hospital Sam, I can’t get the bleeding to stop.”

“Are you okay?” Sam asks faintly, concerned that Dean was more injured than he’d thought last night.

Dean looks down at Sam and holds the side of his face gently, “Not me Sam, you.”

“Oh.” Sam does an internal body check and realizes that he’s hurting all over, but most of the pain is concentrated in his ass, and yeah it does feel pretty wet down there now that he’s noticed.  Not a surprise after the week he spent at Crowley’s, but he didn’t think it was that bad. And oh god the car, it must be so awful, what a thing for Dean to have to come back to.

“’m sorry Dean. Sorry I messed up the car.  Sorry I took so long.” Sam mumbles, most of the way back to passed-out.

“Shut up and go back to sleep you idiot.” Dean says fondly, running his fingers through Sam’s hair gently.

Sam vaguely recalls getting stitched up at the clinic, being absurdly grateful for powerful painkillers and waking up in the car alone guessing that Dean was shopping for supplies.  The next thing he knows he’s coming to in bed in the cabin, Dean sound asleep next to him.  He groans and flinches at the pain when he moves, but he’s rewarded with a smile from Dean who’s now awake and staring at him like he’s the best thing he’s seen in years.

“Sammy.” Dean says quietly, a tinge of wonder in his voice, as if he hadn’t expected to see Sam awake ever again.

“Yeah Dean, ‘m right here.”

“Dude, I know, it’s just, I didn’t think you were gonna.”

“’m okay Dean, stop worrying.”

An unreadable look passes over Dean’s face, Sam thinks he sees more than just worry but he’s not sure, “I’ll fix us something to eat, be right back.”

Sam nods off again, and awakens to pancakes with honey and tea and some actual fresh fruit on the table next to the bed.

He rolls over and snags the bowl of fruit, since sitting up doesn’t seem to be a good idea right now, “Fresh fruit huh?”

“I thought it might still be an issue with the Sucrocorp stuff, and that’s Cas’ honey right, so it’s safe?”

“Yeah,‘s good, thanks.”

~*~*~*~*~

Sam’s mostly out of it for a few weeks, vegging out in front of mindless TV, or passed out from using up the rest of the painkillers from the clinic.  He worries that they can’t seem to easily reconnect; both of them are broken physically with so many months apart separating them once again.  Sam reads the rape survivor’s pamphlets the clinic had sent home with him and laughs off the idea of counseling, how would that even come close to helping him in his unique situation?  Dean tries to talk to him about it several times, because the doctors at the clinic had gone over with him how important it was to get Sam talking. But Sam’s not ready yet, and pushes him away.

Dean’s in and out of a bottle, getting used to being back in the real world, and trying to not obsess too much about exactly how Sam had gotten those particular injuries and how close he’d come to having Sam die on him.  But Dean finds himself stuck on what Crowley had said, about Sam’s cock-sucking skills being something to be proud of, congratulating Dean on training him so well but also insinuating that maybe he was so good because Lucifer had trained him.  But he doesn’t know how to bring it up and talk about it.  Doesn’t want to set Sam off, make him mad, and make him get big and scary again or even worse, leave him. 

All he wants is for Sam to be okay, to be whole again, to just be Sam again.  But every time he thinks about it, he feels so guilty, for having used Sam that way after he got his soul back, never once considering that any of the different ways they like to have sex together could be tainted by Lucifer having done them with or to Sam during all those years in the Cage.  And yeah, Sam’s spent more years with Lucifer than him, and that means a whole lot more years possibly sucking Lucifer’s cock than Dean’s.  Just thinking about it makes Dean confusingly angry and hurt all at the same time.

 He remembers what Hell was like, how the demons took on Sam’s form to tease, taunt, torture and fuck him.  He remembers how difficult it was when he came back to keep those memories locked away with the rest of Hell.  Has Sam had that same problem and never said anything about it?  Probably, knowing Sam, Dean realizes with a sinking feeling in his stomach.  It’s been more than a year now since Sam’s soul was restored, a year of them fooling around, back to normal or so Dean had assumed.  And fuck if that’s breaking his heart now to think that all this time he could have been traumatizing his brother even further.

 Dean knows he can be a toppy bastard sometimes, ordering Sam around when they’re like that in the bedroom, but Sam always liked it, and he never said a thing.  It’s been almost a month now since he got back, and all this tip-toeing around the sex issue is really bothering him.  Not talking about what happened, both at Crowley’s and with Lucifer isn’t surprising, he wouldn’t want to either of course.  If Sam isn’t going to go to counseling, then as his partner, Dean knows he has to do something about this.  It’s part of taking care of Sam, something he’s been doing his whole life and knows how to do better than anything.

Dean resolves to talk to Sam first thing in the morning.  But tonight, he’s going to do something he almost never does, he’s going to make love to Sam. God it’s hard to even say it in his mind, but that’s how he’s going to think of what he’s doing tonight.  He’ll go slow and steady and worship every inch of Sam and listen to the sounds he makes and ask him what he wants and give it to him the best way he knows how.  He won’t ask or take or demand, he’ll let Sam guide everything.  Then in the morning, he reminds himself, when Sam wakes up all happy from being loved up, he’ll try to talk about it, try to check in and make sure Sam’s really still okay with what they do between the sheets.

Sam comes out of the shower in a towel just then, cloud of steam billowing out into the room from behind him, water droplets enticingly dripping down the curves and planes of his upper body.  Dean’s mouth goes dry, just like it always does, wanting to taste, to lick, to have, to take.  But he manages to rein himself in, and just looks his fill.  Sam notices his darkened eyes, the look of lust that he knows so well on his brother’s face, but he doesn’t do what Sam’s expecting. 

Dean just sits there looking and Sam’s confused.  Doesn’t Dean want him anymore after he saw what the demons did to him? He’s got to have guessed what happened, he saw the blood between Sam’s legs, he took him to the clinic to get him stitched up for god’s sake, but Dean never said anything.  Just brought him hot meals, tea, warm washcloths and changed the bandages on the rest of his body as needed as Sam spent these last weeks in bed.  He feels bad now for not saying anything, just watching mindless TV.  Maybe he should have made himself talk about it all those times Dean had asked. 

Sam figures Dean probably is wondering what really happened before he got there.  And he’s definitely got to be worried about how he’d basically turned into a monster to save them both from Crowley.  Maybe Dean thinks he’s turned into some sort of Bruce Banner/Hulk character to be dealt with, managed delicately so he doesn’t get set off.  And the thought of that pisses Sam off more than he’d thought possible, he can barely swallow his anger down.  He fucking saved Dean, from Purgatory, he did everything those fucking demons wanted, and now Dean won’t even touch him or talk to him.  Sam huffs his angry annoyed noise, and sees Dean’s surprised reaction.  But still Dean’s silent. 

Sam knows it’s stupid to have these conversations in his head without actually talking to Dean.  But he’s exhausted, so he just gives up for the night, deciding to try to ignore Dean and go to sleep early.  He mechanically puts on a t-shirt and boxers, crawls between the sheets of the bed he’s been stuck in for weeks now, and pointedly turns his back to Dean. 

Sam tries not to keep the anger in, and allows himself a little bit of a cry, not so much that anyone would notice, not heart-rending sobs or anything, just a slow trickle of hot tears crawling down the side of his face, dampening his pillow.  He’s so sad that his brother doesn’t want him anymore, is so confused because he just did what he had to do to save him, doesn’t understand why Dean looked at him with so much lust and just sat there like he was afraid to touch Sam.  He hears a concerned-sounding Dean say “Sammy? You really going to sleep this early?” 

Without rolling over to face his brother, Sam says in a monotone voice he hopes won’t give away his sadness, anger and pain, “Yeah, ‘m tired, g’night Dean.”  He squeezes his eyes tight and hopes his shoulders aren’t shaking as a sob starts to work its way up out of what feels like an empty pit in his stomach.

Dean’s not sure what just happened there, he’d thought that his looking at Sam that way was a pretty clear invitation, but maybe Sam’s just not ready, not feeling good enough yet to fool around.  But he’s still thinking about his plan of a few minutes ago, of making love to Sam and talking to him in the morning.  He decides to try it the other way around because there’s something telling him that Sam’s not feeling right about everything, and he’d bet his Impala that his brother is lying there silently crying right now.  Dean does a quick nightly bathroom routine and is stripped down to boxers and t-shirt and crawling into Sam’s bed in just a few minutes then, trying to spoon up behind and hold him getting ready to maybe actually talk.

“What the hell dude, I’m sleeping?!” Sam jerks up wiping his face on his shoulder, but not looking at Dean.

Dean gets back out of Sam’s bed almost as fast as he got in, feeling like he just got bitch-slapped, “Just wanted to sleep with you tonight Sam, sorry man.”

“No, come back, ’m sorry Dean. Please?” Sam begs without shame after seeing the conflicted look on Dean’s face.

“Don’t want to bug you or anything if it’s too soon.” Dean backs up and sits down on the chair opposite the bed.

“You’re not bugging me, and it’s not too soon, what do you even mean?” Sam asks insistently.

“I don’t want to hurt you Sam, you were pretty, um, beat up you know, after we got back from Crowley’s and all.  The doctor told us to take it slow remember”

“I’m feeling fine now Dean, it’s been weeks, all I’ve been doing is lying around.”  Sam knows he’s lying, well, not telling the whole truth, but he doesn’t know if Dean can stand hearing all of it yet.

“Well you deserved some time off man, after everything.” Dean waves his hand in the air, indicating all of Sam, as if the whole issue is the entirety of Sam’s body and not the screaming hurt held in his heart.

“You too Dean, you haven’t been looking so good, and I still don’t even know what happened to you in Purgatory.” Sam answers quietly, examining how tired his brother looks, darker circles under his exhausted eyes, sleeping on the couch all this time and worrying about him hasn’t been good to Dean.

“You don’t want to hear about that believe me.” Dean tries to deflect, kind of half-heartedly.  He doesn’t really want to tell Sam all of what went on in Purgatory, but it might be a way to get Sam talking about what happened while he was gone.

“Believe me, I do. Of course I do, Dean.” Sam insists, stubborn little brother that he is, no matter what the situation between them.

“Seriously? Of course you are.  How ‘bout this, I’ll trade you Purgatory stories if you tell me what happened while I was gone?”  Dean offers.

“Don’t think you really want to know Dean.” Sam lowers his head and speaks in a low whisper to his clenched together hands.

Dean hears the defeat in his brother’s voice and gets up off the chair, coming over to stand beside Sam, running his hand gently over the top of Sam’s bowed head, repeating his little brother’s phrase because he means it more than anything, “Believe me, I do. Of course I do, Sammy.”

Sam’s caught and he knows it.  Well better to get it over with instead of prolonging the agony for Dean.  He fatalistically wonders how long it will be before Dean’s giving him another goodbye speech over a picnic table this time.  “Whatever. You go first Dean, but not until you’re back in here.”  Sam moves over to the other side of the bed and folds back the covers, smiling up at him as strongly as he can.

Dean smiles and climbs back in the bed, arranging himself so they’re facing each other, tangling their legs together and holding Sam lightly around the waist.  Sam pulls the covers up over them and wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulder.  They’re looking at each other closely, Dean noticing the tears that still linger on Sam’s face, he reaches up and gently wipes them away with one finger, then licks them off slowly, Sam focusing on his mouth, hypnotized watching his lips and tongue move.

Dean stops teasing Sam and lowers his hand back down to Sam’s waist, “You want to ask, or do you want me to tell?”

Sam shakes himself out of his trance and looks back up at his brother’s eyes, “Both, just start at the beginning, we’ll take turns.”

“Fine, well, at first it was just like a dark, pretty spooky forest with glowing red eyes and growls and Cas was there.  He told me where I was and that I wouldn’t be getting out, and then he was just poof gone, I never saw him again.  You weren’t there and all I could think about was getting back to you, or surviving until I could.” Dean squeezes Sam’s waist Sam indicating that it’s his turn now.

“Cas came to me the first morning after you’d disappeared and told me where you were, and then he offered to make me a sandwich and bring me honey.  It was impossible, but he knew enough to get me started, I had to make that bone weapon we killed Dick Roman with again and find the right words to say.  He didn’t know the words though, that’s what took so damned long because I had to get Kevin back from Crowley. When I tried to summon Meg, Crowley came instead and told me where the alpha vamp was. I called Jody and Garth for help Dean, and it was the darndest thing, they came right away, just because I said I needed them to get you out.” Sam hopes Dean gets it that they have for-real, actual friends now, he raises his eyebrows at Dean so that he’ll continue.

Dean raises his eyebrows in silent answer, “So there I am all alone and I just start running, because it’s dark and there’s things growling in the bushes like they’re ready to pounce and eat me.  It seemed like I was running for hours, time is different there, kinda like in Hell I guess.  Eventually the landscape changed from forest to like farmlands and I found a house that had a light on.  Lenore was there Sam, can you believe it?  And she was actually glad to see me. “

“The alpha vamp wasn’t so glad to see me and Jody and Garth at first, but I got him talked around to giving up some more of his blood once I gave him a database on areas where it should still be safe for them to feed based on the Sucrocorp distribution that Charlie and Frank made.  It was hard to shut all that down right away, a lot of it was automated or something, Charlie explained it to me once and it made sense then, but I couldn’t repeat it to you.  Anyways, that was enough for him, but he warned me that I didn’t want to see him again.” Sam finishes, and hopes that Dean won’t say anything about him helping a monster. He nods at Dean for him to take a turn.

Dean sees the hesitation, and decides to keep his instant judgments to himself for once, “Speaking of vampires, Lenore had her group all back together, and most of them were cool with me being there. A few were not.  That’s how I got so beat up, this one dude wailed on me when she was gone one day and left me out in the forest.  Thought I was gonna die, couldn’t even move, heard this big animal coming, growling, was a giant werewolf, but then it turned into Madison.  Sam, she’s there and she’s amazing.  She took me to her den and fixed me up, I met her pups and her mate, she’s happy if you can believe that.  I told her about you and she was glad to hear you were still going strong.” Dean searches Sam’s face to see if hearing about Madison affects him at all, he’d always seemed to harbor a real sadness about her even after all this time.

Sam’s eyes begin to fill with tears, thinking about Madison, but he stops himself, now’s not the time, “Cas was able to figure out where Crowley was keeping Meg and Kevin, he had them in this old mansion in Washington state, near Spokane.   Jody and Garth backed me up when we went in.  Luckily I still had the knife, and Garth and I taught Jody all the exorcism stuff. We took out a few demons getting in there, and luckily, Cas was right, Crowley wasn’t around that day.  Kevin was surprisingly okay for being a high school prophet kidnapped by the King of Hell, he’s with Cas and Meg somewhere safe.   I still needed Crowley’s blood and a human couldn’t wield the weapon and withstand being pulled into purgatory.  It had to be Death, that’s why he was there when you came back.”

Dean’s kind of stunned by all of that, so much has happened while he was gone, so many people had a hand in helping him return, somehow Sam managed all of that without falling apart, he’s so proud of Sam’s strength he could practically burst. “I couldn’t stay with Madison for too long, it upset the pack balance, something about too many alphas, I didn’t really get it, but soon I was out of there and on my own.  There are whole cities in Purgatory that I found; I had to avoid most of them, they were filled with shifters and so on. Figured they wouldn’t be too happy to talk to me.  I did run into that Jack guy, remember the Rugaru?   He understood what we did, and he was happy to hear his wife had gotten away, she was pregnant dude, so put that one on the to-do list in a few years.  Jack knew the layout pretty well, helped me hide and stuff.” Dean points at Sam so he knows it’s his turn again, so that he won’t try to get out of telling this last part.

Sam takes a deep breath, knowing that this is going to be the hardest part to say and for Dean to hear “We did the binding spell on Death and he agreed to help when we had the weapon.  He said something about how you being in Purgatory was upsetting The Balance.  Crowley wouldn’t give me his blood for free this time, that’s how I uh, ended up how you first saw me when you came back.  I had to sign a contract to give him a week. A week of my life in service in his court, where he could do anything to me.  I wanted to bring you back when I was out of his place, so you wouldn’t see me like that.  But the bastard had to pull you back right there in the middle of it all, in the middle of his court.  I’m sorry it all got so out of hand Dean.  I swear it won’t happen again.” Sam swears so fervently that Dean’s instantly on alert.

“What won’t happen again?” Dean knows he needs to ask, but is guessing it isn’t something he really wants to know about.

Sam answers in a low, cowed voice, “Demon blood, they made me drink a lot of it, that’s how I did what you saw, killing all those demons like that.”

Dean’s not sure how to respond, he’s furious at Crowley, and so upset and sorry that Sam had to go through that again, he hates how Sam sounds right now, especially knowing he did it all to rescue him, “How do you feel now? Doesn’t seem like you’re detoxing or anything this time.”

Perking up a little when he realizes that Dean’s not mad at him about the demon blood, Sam answers, “That’s what’s weird, I’m not having any trouble, not at all. I don’t know if I used it all up that night or what? It’s just not there, and I uh, don’t have any powers left over or anything.”

“Sammy, I’m sorry you had to do that again.” Dean says, gently running his hand through Sam’s hair.

Sam searches his face to see if there’s more that Dean’s not saying, “I’d do it again in a second Dean, you know that.  I had to.  Had to get you back.”

Holding Sam’s head still in his hand so that he can make him meet his eyes Dean answers, echoing the phrase they’d both used earlier.  “I know, believe me I know.  Just don’t beat yourself up about it okay.  I’m not worried you’re gonna go darkside or suddenly Hulk out on me.  I get it, that you had to do it.  And just, thanks.”

Sam presses his head into Dean’s hand, relishing the feel of his touch, worried that he’ll never touch him like this again, “I’m sorry about the rest of it though.”

“You mean what Crowley and the demons did to you?” Dean asks tentatively, knowing that he’s got to handle this part of the conversation the most delicately.  He racks his brains for what the rape counselors had said at the clinic, get him talking, listen, let him feel his feelings, reassure him he’s still wanted.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why are you sorry about that Sam, c’mon, how was it in your control?  It’s not like you asked for it.  What you went through? For me? I can’t even imagine, and honestly I don’t want to.  That’s why I didn’t want to push it, getting into bed with you.”

“I’m still sorry, can’t help it.  I’m mostly sorry you had to see me like that.” Sam feels like he’s going to die all over again, feeling the crush and weight of his shame.

Dean sits up a little and slaps him in the chest, hoping to knock him out of this spiral of shame he’s talking himself into, “Sam, you’re amazing you know that.  You sell yourself to save my ass and then you’re fucking apologizing.  Just fucking cut it out man.  I’ll never be able to thank you enough for doing that for me, and I don’t hold it against you or anything.  I just want you to be okay Sammy.  That’s all.”

“I am. Mostly.  Just want you here with me right now, okay?” Sam reaches up and pulls Dean back down next to him.  He feels like he’s begging once again, asking Dean for more than he’s ever willing to give, more than he should ever expect to be given.

“Dude, you got me, ‘m not going anywhere, ever again.”  Dean says strongly, meaning it with everything he’s got, pulling Sam in as close as he can.

“Even if I can’t, you know, do anything?”  Sam asks tentatively into the side of Dean’s head, burying his face in his short hair, breathing him in again, hoping this isn’t the last time.

Dean pushes Sam away a little bit, so he can see Sam’s face and looks at him, full of seriousness, “Sam, I don’t care if we ever fuck again, as long as you’re okay.  I mean it man.  I’d miss it of course, but that’s not why I’m here with you, c’mon you know that.”

Sam’s heart unclenches a little just at hearing this, and his body floods with a deliciously cool feeling of relief, “Yeah, I know. Okay Dean, thanks.”

“Thanks for what?”

“For just, I don’t know, thanks for being you I guess.”

“Of course, who else would I be little brother? Now we done?  Can we get some sleep or do I hafta braid your hair now or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, g’night Dean.” Sam leans in close and kisses him softly on the lips.

Dean smiles and snuggles deeper in to the pillow and Sam’s side, just looking at his brother in the dim light.  He’s so tired and so glad they finally talked and so relieved to be back in the bed with Sam.  Slowly he lets himself fade off and mumbles as he falls asleep “Love you Sammy.”

Sam smiles and kisses Dean’s hair, “Love you too Dean.”

~*~*~*~*~

The first thing Dean feels is the heat and suction and gliding movement of a wet mouth on his cock, which is amazing, he’s missed it so much, it’s been so long.  For awhile he just keeps his eyes closed and enjoys the sensations flooding through his body.  But finally he pushes up to his elbows to meet Sam’s eyes, which are serious and stubborn and full of lust.   Dean groans as Sam increases his pace and flops back onto the pillow, thrusting his hips up into Sam’s mouth, barely grazing the back of his throat.

“Sorry, sorry Sam, didn’t mean to…”

Sam pulls off, waggles his eyebrows, “Go for it Dean, c’mon.”  He starts the rhythm back up again, taking Dean in deep, hollowing out his cheeks, he’s sucking so hard.

Panting hard now, Dean finally loses control and lets loose with his hips, thrusting up into Sam now, into his throat deep, and then too soon, he’s done, he’s yelling out everything that he’s been wanting to say, that he doesn’t care who taught him this, he loves it goddamnit and coming hard.  Hands are still tight in Sam’s hair holding him in place as he pumps up his last few times.  He feels the rhythm of Sam bringing himself off quickly, the mattress shaking in a familiar pattern as Sam shakes his head loose and flops over, face landing next to Dean’s hip and biting him hard near his hipbone in the usual place.

“Ow! What the hell’s that for?” Dean yelps.

“For apologizing in the middle of a blow job you jerk.”

Dean laughs, “Bitch, I was trying to take it easy on you, first time in a while and all that.”

“Hasn’t been that long for me.”  Sam says without thinking about it.

Well that stops Dean in his tracks immediately, and he frowns, “Oh, yeah, right.  Hadn’t thought about that.”

“God, I’m sorry I said that, I didn’t mean to bring it up.  Ever again.  We talked about it last night; that was all I wanted to say on the subject.”

“Sam, I’m sorry that I never asked, when you got your soul back.” Dean says sincerely, holding Sam’s eyes with his.

“Never asked what?” Sam asks, not really wanting to continue the conversation, but knowing he has to since his brother is actually apologizing for something.

“Just, what Crowley said about Lucifer training you, I’ve been thinking about it and I just, I want you to tell me if what we do in bed is too much like what Lucifer did to you or what happened to you at Crowley’s.  I remember Hell, and sometimes it was hard for me at first, to separate the memories from the current moment.  Just tell me okay?”

“Dean, I would have told you if it was a problem, I swear.  And the stuff that happened at Crowley’s, I’m just not up to talking about it, I’m trying to just forget it okay?  It was just the price I had to pay to get you back, and it was worth it, you are worth it.” Sam feels like he’s begging here, asking Dean to drop the subject, knows that Dean’s just trying to help in his own clumsy way.  But Sam’s desperate to stop thinking about it; the echoes of all those days in Crowley’s court are still all around him, even here in their bed.

“Sam, I don’t know what to say here.  What do you want me to say?”

“Just tell me that you think it was worth it too, Dean.  That’s all I want right now.”

Dean searches his brother’s face and sees that Sam is desperate for his approval here, that he needs to see that Dean accepts the fact that he’s worth enough to Sam to have gone that far, given over control of his body, just to save him.  “It was Sam, it was definitely worth it.  I’m not gonna say I’ll get over being guilty that you had to do it, because I won’t, maybe ever.  And I know I’ll never be able to thank you enough. But yeah, hell yeah, it was worth it!”

Sam smiles brilliantly at him then, tears of relief sparkling on the edges of his eyes but not falling, so happy it burns off of him in a joyous wave.  Dean returns the smile, brushing his hand gently over Sam’s eyelashes to catch the unshed tears.  “We’re gonna be okay Dean.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean says, and he’s relieved to find that it’s the truth for once not something he’s just saying to make Sam feel better.  He really believes it deep down. They are going to be okay, maybe not right this second, but eventually, for the simple reason that they’re together again, after surviving the long separation and terrible ordeal he knows they can get through this next part of putting things right between them.  Together. 

**_~Fin~_ **


End file.
